When the Sun Sets
by The Last Mastermind
Summary: What happens when a secret gets revealed? As the light sides darkness and corruption gets revealed, everyone has to make a decision. After having just survived the Triwizard he was hoping for a quiet year...Harry got anything but. As friendships get destroyed and the lines blur, the question remains. Who's side are you on? Everyone gets a magic boost. OC. Misled Dumbledore.
1. Prologue: I fall

The dark graveyard was covered with a sea of black hoods, all facing forward with rapt attention. It was going to be a night to remember and celebrate. The scenery was not have been as luxurious as they had been accustomed to, in comparison to the comfort of their wealthy manors. Yet their eyes were not on the scenery. Neither the sinister statue that stood in the middle of the grounds, nor on the various tombstones placed in memorial for those who passed were paid any attention. Oh no, on this peaceful night, their eyes focused on the current spectacle. A battle between an insect and a recently returned deity.

A regal individual, with aristocratic grace and blonde hair stood in restless anticipation. For after this fight is over he hoped that his nightmare will end. The cruelty wrought will end with just a few more calculated and necessary deaths. Although he had no qualms with the teen who bears the lightning scar named Harry Potter, he did have qualms with everything that child symbolized. Indeed, magic blood spilled, especially of one so young is tragic, but it was necessary. As the eyes of Lucius Malfoy rose up to observe history in the making once more, his very body shook with the memory of the night where bloodlust ruled the dark. He heard an echo of the screams of a baby in a crib and only to be in a short moment stifled. Yes, as Lucius Malfoy watched his old brother in arms fight, he remembered the night the great Tom Marvollo Riddle truly became the cruel Lord Voldermort.

Of course, nobody else was aware of the thoughts going through a certain Lucius Malfoy. They were amazed that the Dark Lord was able to hold his own against an above average student, when his magic would take at least a week to regenerate back to its potential. They were also very impressed that the boy showed the survival tactics needed to hold out as long as he did. However, each of them knew that against any one of them, the boy would not last more than 5 seconds. As it stands, the only reason he lasted this long was because the Dark Lord had just received his magical core to use once more and not to mention, get used to the standard motions once more after all of this time. Otherwise, a mere glance would be able to tear Harry Potter to shreds.

Harry was now backed behind a gravestone as he felt the multicolour lights whizz past his head and hit behind his safety barrier. His adrenaline and confidence decreasing by the second. It reached the critical point as many do where he made the realization that he was going to die tonight. Time seemed to slow as he was only loosely aware of the barrage going on behind him. He briefly wondered if his friends would forgive him for failing to take him down, only to stop and realize they really weren't good friends this year well…except maybe Hermione. He remembered in sadness briefly the life of Cedric, snuffing out so quickly cause he wasn't fast enough to stop him.

It's funny, to think one's life truly flashes before their eyes as they prepare to face the reaper himself. In watching how truly miserable his life was from the horrors of school, to the loving Dursley's he decided to finally be the difference should he escape with his life, however unlikely.

He found the lion in his heart and the snake in his head and heard his arch enemy once more yell over the spell-fire, 'come now Potter! You're mudblood of a mother saved you then but she isn't here. No Dumbledore, no songbird just you, and your weakness!'

This was it, he told himself and having found his resolve finally stood out from behind his only source of protection from the evil before him. 'Come Tom, have it your way.' There was a flash of shock but only briefly in his opponents' eyes. Harry also saw something he'd never see the snake show. Was it almost a hint of…pride? Regardless the hatred once again took over his opponents' posture as tension suffocated the air.

That tension lasted but a mere moment as they were off. With a series of shouts from the young boy, "Stupefy! Bombarda! Diffindo!" Voldermort watched as the multicolor lights flew at him only to quickly cast them aside with minimal difficulty. Slightly surprised at the offensive and the power they presented however, he watched as they tore up the landscape in front of him. With dirt and cobblestone flying all over the place, Harry remained poised and ready, waiting to see the aftermath of his assault. It didn't take long for his preparedness to turn into fear as he heard "Voltus! Crucio! Sectumsempra!"

There was nothing he could do to prepare a the lightning fast Voltus caught him off guard, as it was a spell much unknown to him. A spell that he was soon going to be intimately familiar with. Almost as soon as he blinked he found himself on the receiving end of what felt like lightning striking his chest. It blew him halfway across the graveyard into another gravestone. He heard a crack in his back but his focus was on what felt like millions of volts piercing his skeleton. It wasn't excruciating but it was disabling some of his nervous system and causing some degree of pain. He tilted his head slightly to the side to avoid the Crucio which made an indent beside his head. It embedded some pebbles in his skull but all in all it was the least of his damage. At least that was until the newly pronounced Sectumsempra nicked his leg, for rapid cuts nearly sliced his leg right off. As his eyes glazed from the pain and voltage, Harry knew he could only make one last bout of energy for a final assault.

The crowd were left in awe and shock at the display before them, every one of them impressed with both wizards only to draw deathly still. The duel drew to a close with Harry hobbling to face Voldermort head on in a symbolic standoff in front of Tom Riddle Senior's corpse. The wizards each marked the momentous occasion with spells that never failed each of them respectively, even in the darkest of times, 'AVADA-KEDAVRA,' 'EXPELLIARMUS.' As the two spells drew near to each other, nobody present, saw the flash of a being who burst into violet flames with a trill. For though Harry Potter will live till another day, another king was ready to enter the board and neither the light nor the dark was ready for him.

 **A.N: Well that's a wrap. Please let me know thoughts and opinions, as a beginning of a hopeful journey. I'd love the feedback as it is the first I've written.**

 **Take care now, and hopefully you'll enjoy the rest that is to come.**


	2. Chapter 1: I discover

Ch1 I Discover:

"Hey look! There's freaky Potty." Harry's woefully unattractive cousin said.

"Had anymore trouble sleeping baby?" Dudley Dursley was a pudgy young man, overweight with brown eyes gleaming with malice. He decided to take a break from beating up the little kids off of his neighbourhood and finally taken to his favorite pastime of old: beating up Harry James Potter. His gang cheered at the original insult Harry has heard every summer since the age of ten.

"Sod off!" Harry replied, his temper rising by the second and killing curse green eyes flaring.

It was supposed to be a regular afternoon of trying to survive the current heat wave. That being said, he didn't really feel the heat as he spent up until recently, most of the time in Dudley's second bedroom without access to the outside world. Every waking moment was consumed preparing for a war that everybody else should have been preparing him for. With being unable to do magic outside of school, he resorted to using a teacher's favorite method of torture…textbooks. Though they helped him, without going to Diagon Alley to buy some more advanced ones, he was entirely stuck not to mention bored out of his bloody mind!

His thoughts were consuming him. Why wasn't Harry getting any training for the upcoming war? Why couldn't he live with his godfather Sirius? How fucking hard was it for his friends to send him information? Anything?! He's gone without a good meal in ages for Merlin's sakes and that doesn't even mention the amount of verbal abuse he has endured from his Uncle. The physical abuse was only a matter of time to return again once Vernon got bored.

He knew he needed some time to gather his thoughts and step away from the turmoil that was unfolding within the confines of his own consciousness. As such he was going to head out for a quick swing around to the park where he could relax and attempt to find some normalcy in his incredibly messed up life.

Evidently Harry forgot he didn't exactly "do" normal. For as soon as he left the safety of his chambers and walked down the rickety stairs who's under dwelling contained his bedroom, his Uncle saw him.

"I'll be damned if you take one more step outside of your room boy! You've taken advantage of us and our hospitality for too long," he yelled, his face turning crimson as he lost oxygen from the screaming. Uncle Vernon was not someone you should mess with on the best of times, especially since this man had enough weight behind him to take on four Harry's. After the fight or flight registered in Harry's system, he made a beeline for the door to freedom from the hell that was soon going to take place in this household should he stay.

"COME BACK FREAK!" he heard as his foot-plunges echoed on the driveway after flinging the door open. Breathing quickening by the second and heartrate going through the roof he was not going back there anytime soon. Which of course led to Dudley and his gang confrontation.

"Quick! While he's distracted," Harry's trip down memory lane got plunged down a cliff as Dudley punched him in the nose. When the pain began twinkling in his eyes, Harry realized it was only going to get worse once he got home. Dudley was a bully, and bullies eventually got bored. Vernon on the other hand was a tyrant and would stop at nothing to break his toy. After the stunt Harry pulled earlier that day, Vernon would be only lying in wait until he would come home.

Yes…Harry was having a terrible day and an even worse summer.

While Harry is mentally preparing for what is to courtesy of his Uncle, a bushy haired, brown eyed bookworm was happily reading her favorite book, Hogwarts a History. It was only the thirty-some-odd time that she had read it. Brushing her bushy hair out of her face, she reclined in the seat with a content smile on her face. Forgetting about the war, the future loss of life, and arguably less important the O.W.L. examinations; she was content.

The room she claimed for herself was decorated the same way as every single room in Grimmuald Place, chalk full of near ancient furniture and very bland wallpaper. This was one in particular however was one of the more inviting rooms of the household to Hermione only as it was the library. The bookworm was always most at ease with the scent of parchment and old books. She learned the hard way though, that the Ancient and Noble House of Black's library contained many a tome she did not want to ever go near.

She shivered at the memory of the time that Remus had to save her from a ghost jumping out of a book and trying to suck her into it. If it wasn't for her loud shriek of fear then she would never have gotten a chance at life. Never again would she go touch those books, at least until she learned how to open them properly.

It has only been a few weeks since she had finally arrived at Griummuald Place. The group founded by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, had picked her up only a couple of weeks ago. Since then she made this her sanctuary from all of the "necessary cleaning" that Molly Weasley had placed upon everybody. Well, everybody exception being herself and Hermione. So, she managed to get some much-needed reading time in while she was still safe behind the wards of the manor.

With the wizarding war on the cusp of everyone's minds she was happy that she was safe. Unfortunately, due to the wards on the manor, her parents were far less safe than she was. With Lord Voldermort at large once again, Hermione didn't think that any muggles were safe. After all, in Rise and the Fall of the Dark arts it said that Voldermort hated muggles because he was a pure blood and he thought them to be the most superior. Which now that she thought about it, seemed a bit off but she couldn't exactly remember why.

Determined to ponder the matter further later, she shut her book and placed it on her chair as she made her way downstairs. She grimaced a bit as she passed the dreaded book that contained the ghostly hand and headed out the door. She purposefully ignored all of the fixtures on the wall because, in her mind, they should've been the symbol of a barbaric age long ago, yet they were current times. Which fixtures? The only thing that could be considered a fixture is the heads of all the previous house-elves that had served the family well. Disgusted by the concept, her brown eyes flickering in anger she finally reached the bottom of the stairs and made her way to the sitting room. As soon as she did, she watched the scene that unfolded before her.

"Somebody. Make it stop!" screamed Ron at the top of his lungs. The curtain he was supposed to dust was alive and attacking him. The twins, Fred and George, as well as Ginny were all watching with maximum attention for blackmail later.

The curtain, and ugly dark green had already tied Ron so he was dangling upside down and now was just adding the finishing touches. The laughter started from Fred and George simultaneously, followed closely by Ginny. Hermione only just managed to stifle her giggles but a smile was slowly making it's way across her face.

By the end of the spectacle, a bulky red headed Ron had: his wrists bound in between his legs, his legs spread eagle upside down and had a very lovely series of knots all over his shirt. At that point there was no stopping the dam that burst forth as everyone started rolling on the floor laughing. Hermione, though stubborn as she was, couldn't stop the giggles that escaped her mouth.

"You lot are all such a bloody help aren't you," Ron said, turning a very lovely shade of puce after the mocking of his…circumstance.

"Oh, look Gred," chuckled Forge, "with a face like that, you'll be able to match our hair." Finished the other twin before them both going back to the hysteria.

"Oh honestly, guys it was not Thaat funny," Hermione said as she pulled out her vine wand. "Alright let's get you down from this Ron. _Finite Incantatum_ , _Diffindo_." After the blue spell and red arc hit the curtains, Ron was unceremoniously dropped on his head with a loud thud.

"Thanks Hermione" Ron said with a smile. He then glared at the twins who resumed chuckling, and Ginny who had the courtesy to look sheepish.

Everyone made lengths to clean up the room some more, stuff like dusting, cleaning the carpet and dealing with the fact that everything they seemed to touch, led to more problems. They dealt with a couple of small poxy's that decided to make their home in some very large spider webs using some poison. They had to deal with a small ceramic bird on a table that would conjure plenty of other birds to form a veritable hurricane around the table and chair next to it. It was a good way to bide time from something Hermione thought after the flurry passed by.

Needless to say, as the sun began to set, their arms were becoming appendages of the floor out of exhaustion. As the last of the up to fourth year spells, were cast Molly huffs into the room declaring dinner. As they dragged their sorry asses out of the now, still ugly but semi clean, room the aroma rushed into nostrils. It seemed to single-handedly revitalize them.

They rushed into the room and took their seats amongst the few order members that were still present. Mad-Eye Moody was observing everyone, his magical eye twirling all around the room before finally focusing on the man beside him: Remus Lupin. It was a common joke amongst the members of the household that the day he doesn't wear disheveled clothes is the day that Sirius stops playing pranks. As pranks were still being played between the Weasley twins today, he wore his disheveled clothes again today.

"Never seen any of you leave dust trails for food before?" said Sirius, Harry's Godfather, with a mischievous smirk on his face. He wore a very nice set of brown and gold robes and looked as if he wasn't ever locked away in Azkaban.

"Leave them be Sirius. There was probably too much Poxy poison in the room," came the deep voice of one of the order's strongest fighters: Kingsley Shacklebolt. The dark skinned muscular individual who wore some light attire due to his profession as a professional dark wizard catcher. Though due to his position as Auror, he is a very serious and strict individual.

"It wasn't the poison, it was the bloody EVERYTHING" said Ron a little overdramatically…at least in Hermione's opinion.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, I don't very much like the tone of voice you're using" said the plump though extremely caring Molly as she dished out the various dishes.

"Mmm looks delicious Molly. You take a break I'll dish out the beverages, you've worked long enough." Said Arthur Weasley, a man who though honourable and generous was held back in his career by his near unhealthy interest in Muggles.

He began dishing out some pumpkin juice, butterbeer and, for the older folks, firewhiskey as the only alcohol laced drink. He dished out everybody's drinks except for Hermione's. It was a little jarring and unexpected but Hermione wasn't going to complain as it seemed to happen every couple of days with Arthur. Analytical though she was, Hermione wasn't going to say anything to risk being offensive to those who showed her much love in spite of all that has gone on in the last few years involving her, their son and Harry.

"Oh Arthur. You forgot Hermione's beverage again, don't worry dear I'll get some for you" said the Weasley matriarch rising out of her seat once more, "What would you like dear?"

"Just some pumpkin juice for me please" Hermione said. When the cup was placed before her, she took a nice long whiff of it. To say it smelled great would be an understatement. Hermione prided herself on a full vocabulary but even she, struggled to come up with the words for how good the beverage smelled to her. Must be some secret ingredient added or maybe just because it is homemade, she thought to herself.

As she took a sip, her eyes sparkled with joy as it felt that she just began to see colour for the first time. For even just a moment while the euphoria lasted, she decided that yes! This is where she wanted to be for the rest of her life. So happy that the light side was her home instead of the dark. Was it just her or did Ron start looking very attractive today? She might have to act on those emotions within a year or two, she thought to herself.

After dinner ended, Hermione was tasked with helping clear the dishes off of the table while Molly delegated Ron and Ginny to do other tasks in another room. Most of the order had already gone to Merlin knows where, she assumed that they all took the floo network to their own homes via the fireplace in the second sitting room that they had cleaned a few weeks ago. It was routinely for chorse to be distributed this way every couple of days, but it always left a bad taste in Hermione's mouth. It seemed that she was always isolated from the rest of her friends and that is not even considering the embargo that Dumbledore seemed to have placed around Harry. Again, she was not going to say anything because of the never-ending love that they showed her….at least not yet.

As the dishes were being magically washed courtesy of Arthur Weasley, who she found was actually very good at charms himself, she was going to head to the room where Ron and Ginny were supposed to be working. She passed the screaming portrait of Sirius' loving mother who fit right in amongst the books that would try to suck you in and drapes that would tie you up. Every single time she walked past, the portrait would flair up and scream all about how unfit Hermione's blood was to merely glance at her doorstep, never mind the fact that Hermione walked through her house on a regular basis.

As she entered a room beside the main sitting room that Ron, Ginny and the twins were cleaning earlier, she noticed twofold: an absence of light, and an absence of people. Pondering where they could've gone Hermione decided to walk upstairs in case they finished early.

Passing the banshee of a mother, and Louis the XVI wall decorations she made her way to the hallway that led to all the bedrooms and a few doors she was told never to open out of precaution for what types of artifacts and creatures lay inside.

She checked her and Ginny's room, nothing. She checked Ron and hopefully Harry's room whenever Dumbledore lifted the embargo on his house which also led to nothing out of the ordinary. Just as she was about to head downstairs, she saw a light at the end of the hall. The house's black wall's seemed to get a little more dark when she remembered that the room at the end of the hall was probably the most dangerous of them all for her and the rest of the children to enter.

She had thought to sneak downstairs until she saw two humanoid shadows flicker past the light. It was the eureka moment as all the weight sagged off of her shoulders when she realized that it was just two people inside of that room. The curiosity in her nature as an avid reader was ignited when she heard two distinctly familiar voices whispering.

"Alright the children should be in the basement by now, McGonagall should be here soon via the floo network," the first distinctly male voice said almost inaudibly.

It was a little disconcerting that Hermione was never told that her favorite teacher was showing up today. Though that statement alone spiked her curiosity and led her to the actions that she would never and simultaneously always regret.

"Their secret training seems to be going well at least, hopefully nobody will catch on," whispered the other voice conspiratorially. Hermione was almost at the door. Unfortunately, in true suspense movie fashion, the last plank was loose and made a very sharp and audible creak sound.

As the conversation stilled for a moment, perspiration gathered on Hermione's forehead unknowing of why she was so nervous. I mean, they wouldn't do anything to her if she got caught right? Though for whatever reason her hyperactive brain shut down in the moment and she didn't even think to hide just because she froze up in shock. Never had she wished for Harry Potter's invisibility cloak more than in that moment.

Until that is the conversation resumed. "Nothing to be concerned of Molly," the now identified Sirius Black said, "it's probably one of the hundreds of small demons in this godforsaken house. It could even be Kreacher, the insane hate filled creature."

Many emotions whirled in Hermione's brain at that: Anger at the fact that Sirius called his house-elf, a sentient being, a creature; relief that she wasn't caught; and a fear/excitement about what was to come with the conversation. She was now at the door, and had her ear up to it. She had already learned that something was going on beneath the surface at this order: Teachers showing up without her knowing, some sort of secret training, the others being in the basement for whatever reason. This could very well shape up to be the chance she could finally get some answers. One if they listened closely could hear the palpable increase of her brain's circuitry in that moment.

Her thoughts quieted courtesy of Molly Weasley. "Yes, Merlin knows that that creature does need some help, though death at this point may be a mercy for the poor creature" she said. Then there was a pause and Hermione could feel the tension or anger rise in the room. The sheer fact that Sirius of all people, a member of one the greatest group of pranksters in Hogwarts' history was angry and…serious was a serious alarm bell. She emotionally prepared for a reveal that will blast whatever it is out in the open. A reveal…she was never prepared for.

"Let's talk about the serious matters here Sirius. I'm sick and tired of brewing potions for the girl. It infuriates me that we have that monstrosity in my house. I think that for the good of the light side…" she paused trying to gather up the strength to say what needs to be said "Hermione Granger will have to die."

 **A.N: Well that's the first chapter done. All will be explained soon. Huge thanks for everybody that even glanced at this. Again this is my first literary piece and i would greatly appreciate the feedback. Until further notice, take care of yourselves.**


	3. Chapter 2: I Learn

Ch2 I Learn:

Hemione's heartrate plummeted to the depths of hell with a single statement. The barest hints of darkness dipped its fingers into the otherwise light-oriented witch. Time slowed to a crawl for Sirius Black and Molly Weasley were conspiring to kill her with her while she was in the building. It took all of her effort not to flee as fast as she could away from the truth she had just been presented with. Harry had courage though when he faced Voldemort, this was nothing in comparison, and she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

As the fight or flight faded, to be replaced with reality sinking in slightly, tears prickled at the edge of her vision as her world slowly began to dissolve. The worst part of it? Hermione didn't know why. Why would two of her surrogate family members, that she only treated with love and care mind you, would choose that options. Thoughts had begun to race in her head at light speed and, no matter what she tried to conceive, she could not figure out a scrap of reasoning as to why anybody other than those allied to the dark would want to kill her. Perhaps they weren't as light as they seemed.

If those two were conspiring to kill her, then that brought into question all of her interactions with the wizarding world up until now. If her family was willing to kill her for whatever reason, then any number of the so-called light could. The only thing more shocking to her now would be if Ron and Harry were to try and kill her. While she was going over multiple different interactions with members of the wizarding world, an even more insidious part of the previous statement caught her attention leaving her previous line of questioning as dust.

They were brewing potions for her.

A cacophony of emotions whirling like a frozen wraith came to the surface, cold and calculated. Every thought it touched turned stone cold and dark. It took every inch of her hyper-intelligent mind to stifle it for now. It explained why the 'homemade' Pumpkin Juice was so earth-shatteringly perfect. Just what kind of potions they be though? They were at leas as frequent as the pumpkin juice she assured herself. That narrowed down the potential list massively. Hopefully the rest of the conversation would bear fruit for her and not just unleash the tempest.

A loud sigh was heard on the other side of the door, "Molly, I truly do understand where you are coming from. Believe you me, I want that monster gone for good more than anybody else. He took everything away from me," he choked and gave himself a brief pause to catch his thoughts "but Dumbledore himself wants her safe for reasons we are unaware of yet. Just think, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is truly back then, we need every advantage at our disposal and she is an absolutely vital one."

Advantage? Monster? What in Merlin's name was going on, and why was You-Know-Who brought into this?! Her line of questions had just gotten a massive extension. One thing at a time though: start with the potions. Well let's see…

Suddenly the doorframe started to rattle under the force of the Weasley matriarch's lungs, "That THING is close to my son and to Harry! I'm questioning Dumbledore's sanity! You bring up the fact that she's vital to his plans but he's risking the biggest one of all in the meanwhile. You should not trust Dumbledore at all period. After all, it was his actions that didn't let you get a trial. Does it not bother you that she's near James' son?! That the very thing we swore to destroy has reincarnated into her and we let her near OUR CHILDREN?!"

That was a very low blow to Sirius, Hermione thought her ears recovering from the tirade, but she couldn't afford to be distracted from her current line of questioning. What type of potions where they giving her, and to what end? Anymore focus spent on the conversation would just end up cutting deeper and releasing the wraith still knocking on her emotional door.

So, she unconsciously and miraculously used the basics of a magic branch left only for the elite: occlumency. There was a reason that she naturally attained information rapidly but this new ability lay untapped. She wrestled her mind and emotions into absolute submission while still being able to feel and hear everything but as an observer and nothing more. Her mind was documenting the conversation behind the door that was separating knowledge gain from her death while consciously focusing on the question before her.

Love and loyalty potions would have to be some of them. Ron had never seemed particularly appealing until after she drank the pumpkin juice. Now that she thought on it: how in Merlin's name did she ever become friends with him? He was the reason she got caught up with the troll in first year, he was absolutely dead-set against S.P.E.W that it wasn't funny; he alienated Harry over the last year and lastly, he was just an all-around insecure and malicious child. In all of four years that she has known him he has not matured like the rest of their year mates. Behaving like a spoiled brat and was very much the cause of a lot of the emotional trauma sustained throughout her tenure at Hogwarts.

"DON'T YOU DARE, bring up my imprisonment into this. Dumbledore is more often than not foolish as was evident with my imprisonment. However, I do not care about the fact that Hermione is involved with Ron and Harry. She has saved their lives and they hers on multiple occasions, I can only ever be thankful. Look, I took part in that night just like everybody else and for the same reasons, but also to give her a better future. Everybody has their own piece on this board and I don't think that she should be denied her life for choices she did not make. Molly, she saved me willingly, I will not betray her over this just yet. If as a last resort then we shall do what must be done but I hope you understand that many will never forgive us for it."

…At least Sirius seemed to be on her side…sort of. Now that she thought about it, it made sense that Sirius would be furious about Dumbledore, after being imprisoned for twelve years and all it would have taken was Dumbledore asking for a trial he never got. On the subject of Dumbledore, she could count loyalty potions.

"Sorry Sirius. I just…" Molly sniffled "I just don't want to lose any more of my family. Hermione Granger no matter how she was raised, will always be birthed as a monster by a monster. She has connections to everyone in the light and if she were to turn on us, we'd all be in very serious danger, most of whom being Harry and Ronald. I don't want to hurt her but with so much to lose, I don't think we have another option. I think Dumbledore has it wrong, the risks far outweigh the benefits. I don't want to see any more families torn apart by this stupid war but if I have to tear apart one last one, I will."

At this point for Hermione it was time to go. She had taken all the information that she could, without making a sound, but the spectre in her chest was about to slash the door open. Once it did there would have been no stopping the explosion that threatened to escape. She lightly took her head off of the door and away from the room that had led to all of her pain and discoveries. When she did this, luckily, she didn't make a sound.

She had begun the slow and heavy walk to her and Ginny's bedchambers. With the walls looking even darker and more uninviting than before. For as of then, the individuals in the house were hostile and not the furnishings. The trip took much longer than it should have, as her steps felt like walking through quicksand. The floor itself seemed to suck her in just like the reality of her situation. If one were to listen closely, they would hear the pitter patter of her tears overpowering the sound of her light footsteps.

Facing the door, she raised the boulder that was her arm, but could not bring herself to head into the room. It was all just too much. So much for being a Gryffindor she thought to herself. Yet she couldn't stay there for any amount of time. If she did, she would have to embrace the fate that they had discussed for her previously. Trying one more time, she lifted her arm to the doorknob and faced the frozen, abyssal, and crumbling wood. Her hand landed numb on it and no strength she could conjure up, no mantra she could repeat, no Patronus powering memory could bring her to turn that dial.

As such in an absolute last resort she walked down to the library with her book still on her seat. Taking pains to not make a single noise down the stairs she ignored everything and not even the portrait dared make a sound. It was if the house itself was listening to her plea for silence for whatever reason. Her tears made a faint trail on the wood and the carpet as she finally made her way into the library that had started her day on such a high note.

She couldn't bring herself to pick up a book. Even Hogwarts: A History could not and would not bring her any comfort from her state. Pulling out her vine wood wand, she briefly had begun to draw some runes in a trance-like state. For many a fifth year, what she was drawing while not consciously doing it, would have been unrecognizable. It was a rune set made to cover a room with a soundproofing and a notice-me-not type of barrier. She then powered the runes with her wand still with the cold, and calculating eyes of someone who just snapped.

After she had felt the magic in the room saturate symbolizing the door fading from outside view, she began the unhinging process. First with sniffling, tears finally began to stream down her face and no longer as isolated drops. Then after a few seconds had passed, sobbing associated with such emotion began. The sound equivalent to mother that lost her newborn permeated around the barrier. The spectre still lay untouched in all of this, lying in wait. For she had only been scratching the surface.

Her bushy hair was flayed all around her, but she didn't care for when in the depths of despair, the world around one fades. After having let out all of her tears for the longest minutes of her then life, she finally began to prod the spectre who lay poised. Anger of a caliber never previously matched began to seep out of her very pores. Her blood began to freeze as every thing around her, EVERYTHING she knew just DIED. Through no fault of her own (even Sirius admitted it), for whatever reason, Molly wanted her dead. Love did not exist, that had just been the potions that she willingly took in her stupidly naïve state. The companionship in the order was a lie. Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew about it ALL and orchestrated it like a master conductor.

Magic itself began to illuminate the room in pitch white as her anger kept increasing to nigh unfathomable heights. Her hair began to levitate of its own accord as Hermione fell to her knees. In her anger and hate, she forgot that it was just Molly planning the actual murder. No, everyone wanted her dead. Suddenly the memories of all of the adults in the wizarding world, had begun to flash before her very eyes, and her the wraith tainted them. Dumbledore not putting a stop to things, saving Sirius only for him to plot to kill her, Snape being who he was and last of all Molly Weasley, there were no words for her. All of those memories froze and the ice fueled the ice storm that embodied Hermione even further.

 _When taken to the brink humans can accomplish the greatest of all feats…and/or the worst._

Her arms became conduits for the electrifying magic. Within her anger, she did something that should never happen to a young wizard or witch. As the need for magic to sate her anger increased, she felt seals around her very core, unhinge and destroy themselves. In an instant the dam of power burst forth.

Her magic had been supressed for at least as long as she has had a wand.

The aura she was exuding had finally begun to change. Her originally very light white hue, turned into a vibrant dark blue. Hermione had read about aura's and what they symbolize, she lighter or darker meant that they were more attuned to a certain branch of magic. It took a lot of power to manifest an aura and though hers was small, it meant that she had probably the highest potential of all her year-mates. Though her mind didn't focus on the progress and the revelation the aura meant. It didn't focus on how no muggleborn had ever been able to manifest an aura until much later in life. For her mind had finally stopped on her interactions with her one saving grace, Harry James Potter. It searched through everything. Every single moment with the Potter heir was scrutinized and dissected only to come up with nothing but acts consistent with his character. He was flawed and not as powerful and knowledgeable as the new improved Hermione but he was her one true friend.

Her aura fizzled out as she had found something or more accurately someone, who grounded her. The rest didn't matter because her first friend in that god-forsaken school was genuine. Taking the very small comfort she could, she built up her resolve. No longer were any tears streaming down her face, for now there was a look of absolute focus on her face.

First step: Neutralize the potions, because at the very least she would no longer be a puppet on their strings. The light didn't seem to have been shining for a while and she was putting any more faith in it than the dark at that point.

Second step: She needed to get answers as to why Molly and the order were doing what they were. At the very least Dumbledore had been involved and some of the other Aurors from what she could tell. After all, why else would they be bringing Ron and Ginny to the basement with McGonagall and have only a few others leave via the Floo-Network. Her best bet was to walk into that room they were talking in and see if should could discover anything of import. Though another conversation would have been great, she knew that she had taken a very serious risk and would not take the same one again.

Third step: She needed an escape plan to leave. Sirius would without a doubt have stalled Molly from her murder plans for the moment. However, that didn't mean that she could get complacent with the way things were. She would have to watch her back constantly in order to prevent mishaps that would lead to her demise.

After having mentally drawn out all of her plans, she began to look through books on aura's and potions. Perhaps there was a way to test potions much like litmus in chemistry and find out just what exactly she was being dosed with. She also had to know what her aura meant. Had Harry ever produced an aura before? Given what he had accomplished it defies logic that he hasn't seemed to produce one himself. Maybe she really was just that powerful once the sudden influx of power came through.

Reality once again set in but it was finally looking up for the bushy haired bookworm. She smiled and recalled that none of her year mates had the same power as she now wielded. And when the potions finally got removed, she could potentially be the strongest wizard of her generation, assuming of course that she didn't get killed first she reminded herself.

The chance she was given had to fit through the eye of a needle. Failure meant death for her. So she was going to give it her all.

While Hermione faced the absolute pit of hell, there had been individuals going through their own version of hell in the basement. Their emotions were not tearing them apart but the spell-fire certainly felt like it was going to.

Dodge, dodge, shield and repeat.

Dumbledore and Molly had talked to the Weasley children near the beginning of summer about receiving extra training from various members of the Order of the Phoenix. It started off with basic dueling. Not dodging or even firing spells much to Ron and Ginny's displeasure. Oh no for they had initially focused on rules of engagement and posture. They had studied for the first couple of weeks on different ways to approach a duel and different postures that came along with it. It was all fairly fascinatingly boring, to them all. It was nice to know what people did but when the kids thought of extra training, they thought of learning new spells and testing them out on the Order members. As it was, the twins seemed to have already known the styles they were going to be suited for. For Ron and Ginny however, they grew impatient and arrogant about their lessons. Ron more so than Ginny.

As such they each picked one that was comfortable yet maybe not practical as they soon moved on to dodging, and how to move around a dueling arena. Moving your feet and posture with pinpoint accuracy versus flailing and twirling like an idiot was the mantra Mad-Eye Moody droned into their skulls.

Every time Professor Flitwick came by to observe however, he would chuckle as he watched the future Order members attempt their movements. Attempt being the operative word, though heavy progress was made over time. When asked what was so funny, he had said it was not their skills or progress in the movements. Instead Professor Flitwick would recall a lesson and joke between him and a colleague many years ago while he was still in the dueling circuit.

Regardless of the confusion at the eccentric little professor, they were dodging actual spell fire casted at them. With different members of the Order sometimes coming by to teach them a few extra spells and tricks here and there. Which was the reason that McGonagall had been there in the first place. She had taught them today about how to direct small animal transfigurations to jump in front of curses that they could not dodge.

That was all fine and good but they had hoped to use the new information that day. Fate was not on their side as each of them now had an Order member firing stinging hexes at them at a relatively slow pace. They were only allowed to shield and to dodge, just to get them used to the movements required for the moment. It seemed to be going swimmingly for all of them…

"Aaaggghh!" yelled Ron he got hit in the arm, "why is it so damn hard to dodge a couple of lights? They should be as easy as can be!"

"Focus Weasley, if I were a Death Eater, I would be able to kill you while you were complaining. That's the fortieth hit tonight, FOCUS!" Mad-Eye huffed while maintaining a constant casting rate.

"Though I think our time is up for the night," spoke the brusque Scottish voice of McGonagall. She wore some looser clothing for movement in the duel as opposed to her formal teaching robes. Her spectacles framing her serious visage and eyes dancing with the flames of someone you simply did not want to mess with. "I feel as if you have accomplished a fair amount today."

"I can agree to that, you were still turning your backs on your opponents when we started today." Came the voice of Remus as he finished up with Fred. "all in all, not bad for some students who just started to properly learn since summer"

"Although you can barely keep up with us going twenty-five percent of our maximum speeds the way you are right now. You all have a larger amount of potential than most of your year-mates," said the metamorph Tonks still rocking the bubble-gum pink hair: "The way things are going you'll soon be able to retaliate against us. And if you truly start researching on spells and tactics on your own time, you'll be on the ever-glorious frontlines dealing with insanity, killing curses and me changing my face every five seconds."

None of the new recruits had commented on the attempt to lift their spirits. In their current state, drenched in sweat and panting like dogs in a desert, all energy that was left in their systems was had been in utilization to prevent them from collapsing. It had been a busy day for them all. Fred and George fared a little better because of their natural athleticism through years of quidditch. Ron and Ginny on the other hand, didn't have that luxury so they were very unaccustomed to the physical and magical demand.

For the two youngest Weasleys, the day had lined up as follows: Morning they had free time (so they slept in), then lunch hit and they had to clean and deal with the nasties in the main room until dinner. Dinner was their only break and after Hermione was out of sight, they were escorted to the basement where they stayed and trained by dodging and blocking around twenty spells a minute along with the theory lesson provided by McGonagall.

"Alright brats, get your sorry arses up and put your wands away in those holders we purchased. Get your sorry arses upstairs and rest up because we have another day tomorrow" Moody barked.

Their sorry arses were also very slow as they grunted in pain from all the tension their muscles had been under and from all the stinging hexes they had received. It would not have been the first time that they had questioned why they were doing this, until all of their gazes at once were drawn to the picture of all of the old Order members that was kept posted on the wall.

There were but a few of them left since the first wizarding war. Almost all of those in the picture perished against the ferocity and power that was Lord Voldemort and his forces. Not to mention this was all within the same month time frame which led people to believe he was going relatively easy on them. This thought had been a constant after every single training session and it was the only thing that let them continue at the rate they were. As such, they dragged themselves out of the basement, said a parting half-hearted thanks for the session and wished everyone good night.

They felt something amiss as they passed the library and main hall leading to the second flight of stairs but could not put their fingers on it. As it was however, they were probably to tired to notice that they could not hear the usual draft nor see the actual library door. Alas, they made it to the upstairs and they each fell asleep. Not at all contemplating what had just occurred in the room they could not see. Not at all questioning why neither Hermione nor Harry had been apart of any of their training sessions. Not at all thinking about how Harry and Hermione were in much higher danger than they were, due to the lack of said training sessions and positions of circumstance.

No, for they welcomed sleeps embrace. When Hermione eventually snuck into her and Ginny's room, she noticed Ginny's enhancing physique and knew that she would have to start her own training and planning for her safety not thinking about why the change was occurring in her junior friend. She had found a potential concoction to solve her potion discovery problems earlier that night, through her study savvy ways and now just needed a way to get the ingredients for it. Next thing was attempting to find a way to get access to that room… it could wait for now. She needed to be completely ready, for both an escape and to survive until at least term started before she could achieve liberty.

And maybe her and Harry could escape together from the evils of the world, after all: he would be completely lost without her, or so she thought. One thing was for certain though, the golden trio as everyone knew it was no more.

 **A.N: That's a wrap…with lettuce. This was probably the most difficult chapter to write and it has certainly challenged me and all of my inexperience. Don't worry the reveal of what exactly is going on will happen soon. My hope is to have every chapter have layers of hints to plot-points farther down the road so keep on the look out. I wish everyone the best and if you could review that would be awesome. Until next time, Take care.**


	4. Chapter 3: I collapse

Chapter 3: I collapse

 _Blood, agony and tears. You must be willing to suffer, in order to achieve that which is worth it._

"Voltus! Crucio! Sectumsempra!" as Harry once again saw the spells coming at him from his arch enemy, he knew it was his reoccurring dream once more. Standing in the graveyard as if it were only just the previous day, he relived the moment that changed everything seemingly for the worse. He of course dodged the spells coming at him unlike the real event and now got to duel Voldemort in his dream again. Only for the dark Tom Riddle to suddenly gain a palpable aura of pitch darkness. The aura seemed to be able to choke all of the light and hope from Harry James Potter and the surrounding death eaters.

This was certainly a new occurrence thought Harry, he now had to be sure to be more cautious even in a dream. Who knew what could happen to him when the sentient being and structure called magic was involved. That's when a piercing amount of wind emanated from Voldemort after the dark cutting curse missed Harry and struck a nearby tombstone.

The wind wasn't a sphere or a maelstrom like Harry expected, when he saw the spell. It was a single crescent that spread out in a circular shape all around the Dark Lord's ankles. It was a translucent white circle and as it passed around the feet of all in attendance, it only cut what little of the grasses and weeds that had the daring to exist around that graveyard.

"Oh, what Tom? Taken up gardening I see?" Harry chuckled. He had never seen such a blatant waste of a spell in his entire life. This was supposed to be the darkest sorcerer in recent memory, what a joke. "Bombarda!"

"You mock me Potter? Let you learn your mistake for mocking the great Lord Voldemort." spoke the near whispering malevolence of Voldemort. As he flicked aside Harry's spell with a mere thought itself, Tom Riddle decided to twist the knife even further, "Behold the error of your folly. Leave this place with the knowledge that this fate could have been avoided."

He then levitated each blade of grass cut with his wind blade and arranged them all behind him. Only a true dark lord, Harry thought, could make blades of grass look menacing. Harry's heart started beating quicker in anxiety; what did he mean by that? The dark piercing night sky, the skull and snake of the dark mark that his followers were emblazoned with, dancing amongst the heavens, Tom Marvollo Riddle in all of his terrifying glory and ten-thousand blades of grass made the scene pretty imposing. Lord Voldemort had even turned Mother Nature against Harry.

"This is just the beginning, for I will become far stronger. There is no hope for you Potter. You will lose, and I will make sure you watch the light die after what they took from me." Then, as Voldemort motioned his wand towards Harry in a dismissive gesture, the blades of grass flung themselves at him. Only once the blood flew out of Harry's mouth did he question whether or not he was prepared for the enemy he will face. Had he not been so focused on the delightfully terrifying image placed before him, he would have noticed that Voldemort had done something thought to be nearly impossible. He would have noticed that instead of minute blades of grass, they developed a silver sheen before they had pierced his body.

Harry awoke with sweat fountaining out of his pores. He panted for several minutes before assessing the damage. He felt his chest, where the first needles pierced him and sighed in relief. No damage.

Of course, this didn't negate the fact that this was yet another nightmare. Always the same graveyard but different spells traded each and every single time. The result always ended up similarly: Harry would attempt to fight back only to get his corporeal body and spirit crushed ruthlessly and without abandon. This time it was needles, the last time it was snakes, the time before that it was a nightmare curse. All of which were done as silently and with dismissive gestures at best.

Once Harry's body had recovered, he began to work ceaselessly on finishing those fifth-year books that he had been studying meticulously since the Triwizard. He was by no means a prodigy of learning like Hermione was, but he worked with a tenacity that few could match. With one's life on the line there was nothing much else to do. Much like every other day, it would be an absolute struggle because of the fact that he can't use his wand. He decided to start with charms. He was getting up to grab his textbook until he heard an indignant squawk close to the only window in his cell of a room.

"Hey girl" he spoke sincerely. He normally would feed her some owl treats but he had run out a couple of days earlier, and there was no way in earth that Vernon would allow him to go out and get more. Interrupting his musing was the snowy owl herself, she nudged his hand with her head and cooed as soon as he begun petting her. There was love with his first companion, and the only friend who he could always truly rely on. He let her out through the window to find something to eat and got back to work.

As soon as he opened up his book on charms, he felt an excruciating pain emanating from his sides. He had almost forgotten about it. He placed a shacking hand against the focal point and it came back glistening in red, it didn't originate from the dream for certain as he took the grass straight to the chest, no it originated from the previous evening. An injury that originated from his joyful time spent with the Dursley tyrant alone for an hour or so. Beaten with belt, fists and whatever else his uncle had decided. Tortured to the brink of consciousness, after all Vernon (he had stopped calling him Uncle since a week ago), needed to keep him around for entertainment. A maimed form of entertainment, on the other hand, seemed very much within the realm of playtime.

It was going to be another one of those 'play-dates' probably tonight. He should never have spoken to Dudley that day in the playground for that was the fuse to ignite even more troubles for him. Though he didn't have time to pity himself, he had to get back to work in spite of the agony.

 **ABUSE WARNING! THIS IS FAIRLY GRUESOME! NOT FOR THE YOUNGUNS!**

"Come in here boy" came the thundering voice of Vernon as soon as Harry walked through the doors, "I have fed and watered you for fourteen years and this is the treatment we get?!" Vernon needed no buildup to the rage, one look at the teen and he turned the darkest shade of puce anybody could imagine.

"First it was your freakishness. Oh, your bloody freakish tendencies. How I wanted to beat them all out of you. I would have conditioned you to never be a freak ever again. First, I would've started small with slaps, then move on to punches, and lastly on to beltings. I had it all planned out but Petunia didn't want the neighbours to see or hear your freakish screams. Whatever. If they saw they would've cheered for the SERVICE I just did. Ridding the world of another freak would be the greatest contribution I have ever made to this ruddy society."

Vernon dragged Harry into the cupboard under the stairs. It still had a dusty mattress from all of those years ago where Harry got starved out. Contrary to what was expected, Vernon did not leave him once again to starve as he had done for many moons previous. No, Vernon stood in the very small doorway with a glee and pride.

"What are you doing? Aren't you going to starve me again, or are you just going to stand there like the idiot you are?" Came the voice of Harry who just wanted to have a nice afternoon after dealing with Dudley earlier in the day.

A sound emanated from Vernon's throat that Harry never thought he'd hear in his entire life. It came out as a grinding of nails on a chalkboard but it was unmistakeable. Vernon actually laughed at what Harry had just said. "HA! HA! HA! You thought I'd let you go after everything you have done." He began to slowly advance on Harry, his imposing frame covering the entire avenue for escape. "You think after years of your freakishness tainting this household that you would get off with a slap on the wrist?" A shadow descended upon Harry who had no choice but to crawl backwards away from the monster before him. "NO! It is time for me to accomplish my mission, when I'm done with you, your freakishness wont even be able to breathe, let alone stand in defiance of me anymore."

Slowly but surely, Harry heard the thud of his back and skull bumping into the back wall of the cupboard. Showing the end of the line for him. Vernon's imposing frame physically should not have been able to fit back to where the cobwebs and a bit of dried blood was but Vernon was sure he could manage the discomfort. Time and space rearranged itself to impose the most agony it could on the damaged teen. Space allowed Vernon to be able to corner Harry the way he did, and time for how long it the dread lasted before Vernon struck.

Almost in some sort of twisted vindictive fate, Uncle Vernon began with a slap to the face. Let it never be said that Vernon was weak, for though he had little to no muscle on his body, he still packed a lot of weight behind his blows. Harry felt it firsthand. The FIRST slap to the face from Vernon, even in spite of the physical condition he kept himself in as a result of the Triwizard Tournament, it sent his head slamming against the wall and left his entire face numb. As the walls themselves rattled, for not the first time this year Harry learned the meaning of pain.

In those first critical moments, Harry wondered just how bad it was going to be. It looked as if Vernon was willing to go as far as he needed in order to let the message sink in though Harry personally doubted, he would kill him. Vernon had seemingly planned this for a while now, and Harry assumed that he would want to drag this out for weeks or maybe even months. A ceaseless cycle until Harry was truly broken beyond repair. Now if only he could send some letters to his frien… never mind, his friends abandoned him, how could he have possibly forgotten as he got his face slammed against a wall.

As the second slap had come and gone, Harry realized just what kind of mistake he had made in letting Vernon stew in his anger for a couple of hours, only to then to also have Dudley come in and tell him about what Harry had said. At the third slap Harry's imagination went into the darkness as to what Vernon could do to him in those moments. It involved many things too horrifying for Harry to ponder.

The summer seemed to be looking great as he left school on the Hogwarts Express, unfortunately it was but a mere illusion. First the nightmares started as soon as school was out but Harry was going to work his absolute ass off to succeed against that threat, they had no identification with Voldemort because if he had that power then he would abuse it much more than the dreams had been bad. With this current threat however, there was little he could do without something better to protect him than his mother's supposed protection from threats.

Vernon grew annoyed when he saw that Harry was lost in thought. The little freak needed to learn his lesson not live in fairy land. His hands at the response to his wishes, began curling into meaty clubs that took their weaker counterparts place in separating Harry from himself.

As the punches rained down, Harry began tearing up. There was nothing gained in this situation by showing weakness. Yet in a fight or flight scenario where you can hide behind a gravestone to muster your courage is much different than when the threat has you cornered and is slamming your face against a back wall. Trying to act tough when an opponent has you cornered and your face is already turning purple and bright red from his previous blows to you is nearly impossible. Also, risk of rebellion against someone already furious would only cause you to experience more pain, and nothing else.

Every thought in Harry's mind died as soon as the knuckles started to rain down on him. Everything in that moment became trying to last the onslaught. Nose now bleeding, eyes turning black from bruising, there was nothing to help him now. Just survive.

The poker face Vernon wore as soon as the breaking began was in the process of becoming a savage grin of a wolf who just found his next kill, yet in spite of the joy he felt for years of Vernon suffering at the hands of the freak, it wasn't enough for him yet.

Harry felt absolute relief thinking it was over. He did it! He won! Vernon had left the room, it was done, Harry had emerged victorious. Vernon had left and locked the door so Harry could now take custody of his wounds. Busted lip, check. Black eyes, check. Broken nose, check. Jaw had seen better days, but it could have been much, much worse. Other than that, the worst of it was bruising. Compared to the fear he felt earlier, it wasn't actually all that horrible. It was absolutely terrifying and he'd have nightmares for weeks but all things considered he would be able to move past this.

As Harry was struggling to stand, the door slammed open and there stood Vernon once more. All thoughts of Harry getting off easy flew out the window and swan dived off of a cliff. Dread filled Harry's being as he saw what object Vernon was carrying in his hand. A studded belt.

He immediately curled in on himself to protect what he could, primarily his head. Vernon had seemingly teleported and the beating had resumed with a fervor. This time marring his arms with blisters, welts and blood. After every swing, Harry's head would hit the back of the cupboard from a reflex, not as a direct impact. Thankfully for his future safety, magic does have a great regenerative property that prevented any brain damage. Unthankfully it would not work for anything else, only able to protect some vital areas at a time.

Vernon was nearly satisfied with the results from the night but had to finish things off with a message that will mar the freak and really make the lesson sink in. He noticed that the head strikes weren't accomplishing as much as he wanted so he looked for an opening and saw that Harry's sides were exposed completely. So that's exactly what he began aiming for. Strike after strike rained down on the soft flesh of Harry's sides.

Harry didn't have another option, there was no recourse, he started crying like the tiniest and weakest of children. He couldn't take his arms off of his head for Vernon would only take advantage of his skull's exposure to the reaper bearing down on him.

Only after his shirt's sides were soaked with blood did the tyrant stop with a nod at his work having finally been done for the evening. He picked Harry up by his neck and walked out of the room with him in tow. Harry in his weakened state, was not even able to grasp the humiliation of what had occurred.

"Shut up. You useless boy! I'll make it worse for you tomorrow if you do not stop crying like a little BITCH right this instant. This is justice for your crimes." Harry shut up immediately until he was thrown back into his room.

It was a sorry state to say the least. Harry climbed into his bed, wincing at every single movement, tears flowing freely though the sobs were limited. Hedwig had returned from her hunt earlier in the day and was cawing sadly at the state of her companion. Harry in spite of his injuries began petting her after she hopped onto his bed and she seemed to nudge his hand away and gestured her head towards the bed. In understanding of what she wanted, Harry snuggled into bed and fell asleep nearly instantly. To the sweet embrace of the nightmares.

It was to his shock when he awoke, that he had found that most of the injuries from the night before had been healed thanks to his magic doing its thing with only the pain and blood from his side still remaining from the previous evening.

That had had been ritual every evening since a week ago and had continued whenever Vernon got furious, which happened very regularly. Today was one such day, but he had to continue training, for if he didn't then his only source of freedom in the world would be eradicated and no doubt that Voldemort would be much worse than one Vernon Dursley.

 **ABUSE OVER! CAN RESUME FOR HERMIONE SEGMENT!**

It had been a frustrating easy week for a certain Hermione Granger. It was if they had decided to treat her as if she didn't exist. Only Professor Lupin had really had a conversation more than a few words with her, though even that was a one-time occurrence. She thought that things would be very difficult for her after her discovery of the plot to murder her, but nobody had tried anything just yet. The frustrating part of things was due to the fact that there was no progress made in her own endeavors. Ron was still getting trained or doing whatever they did in the basement, Molly could still try to kill her at any meal, she couldn't find anywhere to brew a potion and she couldn't just walk up to someone and ask how they were going to try to kill her in the future.

There wasn't really much that could be done. The trace was still on her wand and she didn't know whether or not Ron and Ginny got theirs off or it was through some other means. What are you to do then when faced with potential imminent death and you can't seem to do anything about it? Well Hermione in boredom began drawing and mastering an art. That rune cluster that she had made to ward off the room was a complex one but she wanted more means to defend herself than just the simple runes. After all, they were one of the only forms of magic that took magic and power directly from a user and not a wand signature that that dreaded Trace used. It was for the same reason that her aura didn't trigger anything, thank Merlin for that.

This had been her life in every single facet of her free time: reading, drawing, and thinking. The runes flowed onto a near infinite number of canvases, only to then get erased lest someone find out. Protection, levitation, provocation, you name it she drew it. Of course, it wasn't anything crazy as it was still only school level stuff. No matter how skilled and intricate the runes were, they didn't hold a spark compared to what a true master could wield.

What was nice about runes as a course is that they were just about as versatile as the entire field of spell-work. All it took was the user's knowledge of previous runes, knowing the rules of combining them, and eventually and imaginative logic that would allow you to create your own clusters and symbols.

Hermione was magically drained after her most recent escapade. Walls lined with a bunch of random twirling and jagged lines from Hindu to Persian to Egyptian glyphs. After she had finished sweating and panting from the magical exertion, she began to draw a single runic cluster in the center of the room to erase them. It took her five days before she figured out a way to draw an erase rune that she didn't have to repeat on each individual symbol in the room. It took only a few seconds for all the runes to blacken and ashen like charred paper, as opposed to the ten minutes it would normally take.

After the last of the runes evaporated, Hermione collapsed on her hands. No more magic for the day, lest someone try to make an attempt on her life and she be unprepared. She needed her magic to sustain the life in fear that she found oh so enjoyable.

As she tried to regain some energy into the limbs that were recently tired and not due to the immense chores, they used to have her do, she began her second pastime for the day, thinking about everything happening around her. Only aware loosely of Ron peering into the room she thought about what the teens could possibly learning in the basement and why they wouldn't have at least Harry involved.

Ron was about to interrupt her train of thought, until he saw that she had a myriad of emotions crossing her face in super high speed. Not worth the potential explosion, he thought. An angry He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would probably tremble at the thought of an angry Hermione. Maybe he would be able to talk to her before training tonight and explain some things. Not the training because they have him under oath not to tell and if he were to break that oath, the consequences would be…severe. So he left to clean another room in the house. Thinking, that hopefully cleaning and talking with his family and The Order would take his mind off of his dwindling friendship with his two supposed best friends.

Hermione while all of this happened was considering the possibility of why The Order wouldn't want Harry trained. He had clearly shown more aptitude than Ron at casting, he faced Voldemort multiple times and was The Boy-Who-Lived. If anybody deserved extra training it was clearly him. Then the logical conclusion was, that Harry showed so much aptitude for danger, that the others in his circle of friends were not powerful enough to face the threat.

Anyways back to potions, she thought. And boy did she think. Sneaking to Molly's room at the Burrow would be near impossible and a death sentence. Sneaking into Sirius' room would not be a death sentence but it would be a conversation she couldn't afford to have should she be caught. Her best bet was Lupin, assuming he wasn't acting. An assumption that would also cost dearly.

Nope, nothing, nada. She was blocked on all angles. It was too risky unless they were going to kill her that same day in which case to hell with it. Treat every day like it was your last is all well and good until you're actually faced with that choice.

Then a slight tug of pain caught her attention and withdrew her from the confines of her own mind. She snapped out of it, seeing her own bushy hair in her hands that she pulled out of her scalp in frustration. It was a cause for concern but at least her muscles had decided to relax. Even worse, the sun was completely set meaning that nobody had the courtesy to call her for dinner.

God! Merlin! Whatever! They didn't call her for dinner. That must mean that they were planning to kill her tonight.

She froze in place and tried to think of potential escape options. As a slight breeze through the drapes caught her eyes, that seemed like a valid option at this point. It was her exit, her freedom…until logic took over her instinct. She didn't stand a chance in hell of escaping if they were to all come after her. She was just a schoolgirl. One that couldn't do magic lest the ministry bring her to heel. Her wand would be snapped. And THAT'S under the assumption that The Order would not capture her first. In which case death would be the preferable option to whatever plans Sirius talked about Dumbledore having involving her and the dark lord.

No, not the window. But if she were to die, then the best bet may not be to flee just yet until she had all of the reasons as to why. The secret room may be her best bet. So up the stairs she went, her quiet footsteps a stark contrast to her beating heart. Everything was on the line more than ever before at this point. She heard every creak of the floorboards even if the fellow members of the household didn't hear a mouse. She saw some lights on in the dining room, but that was no doubt where they would ambush her for it was much too late for dinner. The kids were probably in the basement to avoid having them see the bloodshed that was soon going to happen.

She quickly checked the behind her, and opened the door to all the answers she would seek. Peeking through the doorway, she quickly checked to make sure that nobody was guarding the room. Thankfully luck was on her side, for now at least. Nobody could be seen. Actually, the room wasn't all that special at first glance. The room was illuminated by a fireplace that she assumed to just be replenished daily or be magical, and it gave her the chance to gaze upon everything. The hideous artifacts that lay on empty bookcases were present as ever, meaning that it was a room of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. It was pretty messy with diagrams on the walls, that she swore she would check out if she ever found the time to do it.

What was present in stark contrast to the rest of the "décor" was a finely polished desk and chair in light wood that stood in the center of the room. Delicately carved and pilled with parchment that stood a mile high, it was for certain that it was only recently put here. Closing the, door she approached. Yep, certainly put here recently because every other object in the room had a layer of dust on it but this desk had nothing on it, and neither did the diagrams nor the chair.

She sat down in said chair, deciding that if she were to die in this room, she'd at least have some comfort. The thumping in her chest also conveniently stopped once she sat down. She had made her stand at last and it was now time to get to the bottom of this.

First thing she saw was a map of Great Britain rolled out dead center. With small pin-like daggers stabbed through certain locations it was clear they were tracking someone or something, probably Voldemort's actions with this. Deeming it cool but not relevant to the quest at hand she began quickly flipping through one of the two stacks of parchment on the desk as quickly as she could identify their significance.

Lots of useful facts were uncovered but nothing in particular. They mentioned some creatures that Hermione had never heard of that were "critical allies" to the light side, according to what the text transcribed. There were also some records, of nefarious business transactions that the dark families (mainly Malfoys) were up to. That in itself was an achievement because from what she knew, the Goblins were near impossible to gain information from.

After nearly going through the entire stack and once again tapping into her limited Occlumency capabilities, Hermione determined that though she now had a fuller picture of what was going on in the war, nothing pertaining to her fate was hidden here. So, she turned her head to the much smaller stack of parchment to her right.

Pushing the parchments back to where they belonged and arranged in the order they were originally in, Hermione took one glance at the top piece of parchment on the second stack and knew this was where she would find her answer. Why? Simply because it had her name on it: "The Hermione Extraction" was the title, and around it had clipped and pasted Daily Prophet postings that were dated to the first war.

All of the articles spoke of atrocities that Voldemort and his cronies had done in the first war. Rapes, tortures, mass murders, and worse all had their headline on this crimson canvas. However, what she also noticed was that there were a few articles detailing some mysterious happenings that the light side would have more likely done than the dark. Kidnappings and such, assassinations and the like of more prominent dark figures. It outlined an actual war happening instead of the heroes on one side and the villains on the other. Though the light from the news clippings certainly had more reason and justice than the dark did.

At least…until she turned another page in the stack. This page had no news clippings, or operation titles. It was a simple note, written in the most scrawling and messy writing Hermione had seen in all of her educational career. That alone should have been an accomplishment given that she had marked Ron's homework in the past.

Before she could even start reading, some minor water damage that arranged itself around the parchment in small circles quickly caught her attention. With that fact in mind she began her reading.

"It is now time to execute the last hope of winning this stupid thing. Molly's parents and brothers all died last week after they defended themselves from death eaters trying to kidnap them. I'm trying to comfort her the best I can but I'm not coping too well with this news myself. Most everyone from the light is imprisoned or dead. The Order is on its last legs. That's not even mentioning the political war that Voldemort is absolutely trouncing us in. Bartemis Crouch is of no use to us after sending his own son to Azkaban, and the Minister is not really taking sides as of this time. Voldemort is making such strides and proclaiming peace to those who don't oppose him. It is almost convincing but Dumbledore is making sure we stay on the right track against evil."

Now it made sense, as to why Molly was so family oriented. Though nothing regarding her or anything. She resumed reading and had her eyes widening with every sentence from then on.

"That brings us to our plan to finally put a stop to this madness. We found out that dark, calculating and murderous Voldemort had a baby girl. As repulsive as it is to think of that monster having his own flesh and blood, let alone doing the act that allows for conception, it is true. It is the only intel we really have and though it will be difficult, we will fake her death. Dumbledore seems to think that allowing her to be raised light would be the ultimate irony for Voldemort; I am of the opinion that she should be raised away from the bloodshed and the pain. We will take her away, we have already picked a name for her. First name will be Hermione and we will give her to some muggles called the Grangers to be raised lovingly. Memory charms, magic binding charms and whatever Dumbledore can come up with

So this note may be my last as we all have to do our parts in infiltrating Riddle Manor even if only one of us will be able to actually take her away from an abusive household. Some of the other members are disinclined but they listen to Dumbledore on these matters. Most of those remaining don't even know lest they defect or get tortured for the information. Even in spite of the obstacles, we have faith we will succeed. Everything checks out and even if lives are lost in the process it will all be for the greater good according to Dumbledore, and he hasn't led us astray yet. _**No matter what, Cecilla will die and Hermione Jean Granger will take her place. On my honor as a Maurader, this I swear before the sun sets.**_

-Sirius Orion Black"

 **A.N.: Well that is a wrap, and a very large wrap at that compared to the previous. Holy cow this took me forever to write but I do believe it is worth the effort. Please leave any feedback and criticism is much appreciated. There is no doubt a lot of things I still have much to learn on. I do not believe in editing my past chapters unless absolutely critical so you'll see me hopefully get better further along I go. Although, it isn't entirely a travesty just yet ;)** **Other than that, take care Peeps.**


	5. Chapter 4: I focus

Chapter 4: I Rebound

*Thump*

The parchment dropped from Hermione's frozen hands, and fell to the dead floor. In direct contrast to the flickering flames and the warm glow, her body was frozen. There was no specter of emotion this time round, she felt only…cold. Muscles clenching and failing her, she collapsed to her knees. Her frozen back touched the desk, and she pressed against it as a lifeline.

No tears arrived. There was nothing left worth crying over. She was done. Merlin and Morgana in a historic moment, came back from the dead and made her life a living hell. And so, she stayed there, pulling her hair out by the dozen. Hands going to her face to try and mutilate it for what she really was. Hoping to wake up from the nightmare a sick tyrant conjured up just for her.

Sirius had explained everything in brutally honest terms. Her realm of existence was a lie. There was nothing she ever regretted more, than the decision to listen in to that cataclysmic conversation. Discovery be damned, the truth never set anyone free to begin with. Gryffindor courage had failed time and time again, it was no different then. Even worse, was the fact that she, the great genius and bookworm of Hogwarts, buck teeth and messy hair included, had to admit that she didn't want to know something. For the very first time, she did not want to finish a novel.

Worst part of it, Hermione thought to herself, she hadn't been able to bring herself to make a single noise. Not enough courage to sob, wail, or scream. She just couldn't admit that there was something painful there. She couldn't accept that the writing on that piece of parchment. The prospect was too devastating to realize. Though no matter how deep down, she knew that it had to be true.

"It can't be! Harry is going to kill me! The Order is going to kill me. No, he had to have lied. Just had to." She spoke aloud for the first time since she had read the paper. She no longer cared if the Order found out about her knowing, maybe they would just kill her off and end this mess. It would make life easier for her, to only worry about getting killed instead of being related to two of the darkest magic users in a near century. The deaths of thousands of Muggles rested on the shoulders of her parents. They rested on hers.

She managed to stop pulling her hair out, and was only shaking like a leaf. Pulling out chalk, her only safety in this household, she attempted to draw. Nowhere near the level required to create her own runes she shakily drew the only one that came to mind. An Egyptian rune for safety.

Just as she began to power up her saving grace, it fizzled and evaporated. In her state, she was shacking too much.

No magic, no runes, no window to jump from there was no other option. Slowly and shakily, she dragged her arms up the chair and heaved her aching body up on it. The parchment with the bad news long since forgotten on the ground, she took a good long look at the parchment with the news clippings once more.

The light side's misdeeds became more pronounced as she looked. It didn't matter for the dark's misdeeds far outweighed what the light had done. With a closer and fuller picture however, she managed to notice something horrifying.

All of the newspaper clippings that showed the mass murder of muggles, the tortures and the rapes, were after the date December 21st 1979. A near three months after she was born.

At long last, the dam burst. Though no noise was emitted, the tears resumed going down her cheeks with a fervor. SHE had been the cause of those deaths. Innocent children much like herself were tortured into insanity via the Cruciatus Curse because she got kidnapped, wait.

"The dark started the atrocities around the same time that the light would have kidnapped me. But from what Sirius said, the dark had been winning the war for a long time before that." It took some mental gymnastics to wrap her head around that. There was no consolidating the fact that the dark went, well dark only after she was kidnapped. The dates only made that painfully clear.

She fiddled with her hair, as was common when faced with difficult problems. Her mind had focused on another task to avoid the pain that she was feeling on the inside. With another problem faced in front of her, and this one she was more than willing to solve as she could ignore her impending conundrum with it.

If her conclusion was correct, they had to have been battling it out politically and behind the scenes. Much like in the Cold War between the United States and Russia. There were definitely deaths, there were probably battlegrounds but the war was not involved in everybody's lives. It would have been a peaceful time, until the light and dark took the war up twelve notches. That's where they almost saw the entire wizarding world collapse not unlike when Grindelwald and Dumbledore had their own war to settle. Yes, that was what most probably happened. Yet, how did Harry fit into all of this then? There was no connection other than the fact that his parents were probably involved in her kidnapping.

The question would have to be filed for a later date, if she had one at this rate.

And just as quick as a thought change, Hermione or Cecilla she supposed she was now called fell into a depressed state again. She had no future to speak of. The death eaters would kill her for the fact that she was raised by muggles and was a disgrace to her lineage. The light on the other hand, well, Molly was already plotting to kill her. They were feeding her potions, binding her magic and no doubt other notorious things behind that she wasn't even aware of yet. Then it clicked.

"Dumbledore was going to use me as bait? As a lamb for the slaughter? The sick manipulative coot was going to have Voldemort kill me," she said. Not that he probably would have minded killing his flesh and blood. Even if it was Voldemort, even with all of the atrocities, this single act of Dumbledore was too far for anybody. The self-proclaimed light wizard is trying to tear a family apart. It is war but there were standards that should have been upheld.

Hermione's future with the dark, looked as if it was going to be a lot better than the one Cecilla was going to have with the light. The dark didn't go off of the deep end until after she was kidnapped, so there was hope that they would at the very least provide her with sanctuary. In fact, that was probably her only shot period. It was just a matter of how she could get into contact with them without getting killed on the spot for claiming to be Voldemort's daughter. Obviously, the light side would not let her go out for a stroll with the Malfoys. What she needed was someone within the household who could get into contact with them. At the very least someone who could be sympathetic to her plight.

There was only one possibility no matter how much she hated it. The only person who may give her a fair chance, and won't submit her to Dumbledore immediately would be the incredibly brilliant yet equally cruel Professor Severus Snape, the dungeon dweller of Hogwarts.

"It's not much, but if anybody is going to give me a way out then it will be him. I just have to hold out until the next Order meeting." Her spirits renewed once more. There was a chance and Hell would freeze over before she missed this one. And honestly, if she died, so be it. It wasn't like she would have had any friends once they found out about her lineage. Harry would possibly stick around if it was a dark family, but her father was the man who murdered his parents in cold blood, and attempted to murder Harry four times by Hermione's count. Yes, Snape was the only option she could have taken without death being an inevitable effect.

The irony wasn't lost though: "Great, my only solace is with the murderer of my best friend's parents. Who is also my…sperm donor. Not to mention, the only way to get to him is Hogwarts' most hated professor. They hate house-elves almost as much as I want to free them, they hate muggles and I was raised as one, and I'm very close with Dumbledore, the man they all hate. Upsides? At least my shacking has finally stopped." Indeed, it had. The tears had stopped too. She still stayed there for a few minutes to try to let reality sink in.

When she finally had it in her to leave the room, the moon had risen to its peak. It takes a lot out of someone to go through most of the grieving process in just a few hours, but somehow, she managed to pull it off. She also didn't runically implant herself as a desk feature which given everything that happened, was one heck of an accomplishment.

She put the stacks back to where they were originally arranged on the desk and took a look around once more. This time the diagrams on the wall caught her attention. More accurately there was a drawing with text on it written in the neatest writing Hermione had ever seen. It arguably even surpassed her own. It featured a feminine body with a list of various things that Hermione had heard of, but a plethora of things that she hadn't.

The diagram was of a clothed female body, and it was a list of potion ingredients and spell names. What Hermione couldn't decipher is what it could mean. She tried, and tried but after what had happened tonight, it was just too much for her discombobulated brain to handle. Begrudgingly, she filed it under the same mental category as the question of why Voldemort was targeting Harry.

Feeling her sore and tired eyes attempting to close, she carefully and delicately placed her ear to the door once more. This time having the light on her side, which meant that once the door opened, she would be in plain sight until the door closed. One, two, three…nineteen, and twenty. Not a sound was heard while she counted what she deemed to be a reasonable amount.

She traced a rune on the door to make it soundproof. Thanking Merlin himself for stopping her tremors, even after having cursed his name not a few hours earlier, she made the rune power on as it was supposed to do. She opened the door as quick as she could, ran out of the room, and slammed the door shut. Quickly observing the hallway, she found nobody; she was safe.

She got out, put everything that she could think of back where it belonged, and nobody seemed to be lurking around the corner. Relief had flooded through her veins until she heard something dreadful. There were footsteps coming up the stairs. The last thing that she wanted to hear.

Though she accepted that death was a very real possibility, she didn't want to embrace it just yet. Though if it were just the twins pulling some late-night prank, then she would look very stupid. So she attempted to walk away from the door as calmly as possible so she wouldn't arouse suspicion. If death came, she would have to just accept that she was too stupid, maybe that's why they never put her into Ravenclaw.

She got about halfway into the hallway and heard the only voice she had become familiar with.

"Hermione is that you?" spoke Remus Lupin, "You must be absolutely famished, our apologies for the dinner mishap, Molly said you were asleep so we put some dinner aside for you in the- My dear are you alright, you look absolutely dreadful? Did something happen?"

It took a lot of emotional control and Occlumency abilities to stop the loud sigh of relief that was no doubt going to exit her lungs. "I am fine, it was a rough night for me, just had a hard time coming to terms with…the war." Well it wasn't a complete lie at least. "There is no need for dinner, I have found myself not all that hungry tonight, though no doubt tomorrow I will be absolutely famished." She chuckled with the least amount of mirth she had ever felt.

"It is dark times indeed. Unfortunately, with the war starting up once more, we are all in for many sleepless nights. There is comfort however, we have Dumbledore on our side and he hasn't led us astray yet. The dark has always had a great deal more wands than we have, but we have more power in the few we have. Not to mention that all of this will end once He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gets killed. Take comfort, the war will be over before you know it." Remus gasped air into his lungs after his tirade, " Enough of this though, you should really get going to bed, it isn't healthy to be up this late anyways. I will see you tomorrow Hermione, get some rest."

"Goodnight Professor Lupin" Hermione said, facing the entrance to the room her and Ginny shared.

"And Hermione?" he said just as she opened the door

"Yes?"

"The adults will be able to handle this, don't worry yourself. As cliché as it sounds, we have it all under control."

They both then entered their bed-chambers. Remus fell asleep immediately. Hermione followed soon after with one thought circulating her head. The adults handling things was exactly what she was afraid of, next time she had to meet with Severus.


	6. Chapter 5: I flee

Chapter 5: I flee

It had been three days since Hermione discovered her ancestry and name. Cecilla Jean Riddle, what a pill to swallow. She still couldn't fathom that she was the daughter of her best friend's arch enemy Voldemort. Thank heavens Harry told her what happened in second year, otherwise she would still be in the dark. Regardless it was time for her to stop daydreaming and resume prepping for the hail Mary escape plan she had concocted.

"Lost in thoughts again?" said Ginny, observing Hermione from the bed across the room.

Hermione quickly gathered her wits. "Was. I am good now. Thanks for the concern though" she said with a smile.

"What is going on with you lately, I know I am not Ron or Harry but I am here for you if you need it? Even if you want to talk about that power surge you have had." Ginny said, eyes softening. She looked about ready to say something more but stopped herself.

Flabbergasted, Hermione opened her mouth but few words came out. "How did? Uh You weren't supposed to-"

"-Know? I figured that was why you hadn't told anybody yet. Remus and I are the only ones who know as far as I am aware. Why do you want to keep it secret though? Also," she paused and gathered confidence "do you have a crush on Harry? Idon'tmeantoprybutIwasjustcurious." she blurted out.

Hermione didn't hear the last comment. They knew! Even if it is the two who seem to be okay in this household, it showed that the escape had to be done later tonight. No other options, because if Ginny Weasley of all people, knew about the random power surge, then Dumbledore will definitely know. Hermione didn't know why it happened but if it is anything to do with Cecilla then the Order will find out and she can kiss any chance of freedom goodbye.

Hermione then felt something hit her head. "OW! Ginny what in Merlin's name was that for?!"

"You were lost in thoughts again, and I need an answer." Came the angry huff that Molly would be proud of. "I saw the way you used to look at my brother, you were totally pining after him. Now however something changed, and you only act happy when you hear Harry's name. Do You Hermione Like Harry?!"

Oh, that's what this was, petty jealousy. She didn't think she liked Harry, he was too brash, impulsive or various other adjectives. He was loyal to a fault and she loved him to death, but only as the best friend she could ever ask for. "No Ginny, I don't like him. He is the best friend I could ever ask for but he is all yours" she said with a wink.

Blushing Ginny scrambled to get something out, her face as red as her hair. "Thanks" nothing much but it conveyed all the emotions needed. "I'll meet you downstairs, and just remember you can talk to me"

It was a little weird coming from the red-head. Though they got close over the summer, they were never that close but she just didn't have time to think of it. As soon as that door slammed, she got to work packing up all of her things. The fact that Ginny knew she was more powerful set the timer to 12 hours. Key to the scholarship vault, wand, a book or sixteen, and clothes were all hastily put into an expandable bad she had purchased from Diagon Alley last year.

There was no hope of her leaving during the day, at night she had a shot. She may have tracking charms on her but most importantly, they had magic and money while she didn't. She wouldn't make it far enough in the muggle world without money, and even still they would eventually find her through wand-waving. She had to leave tonight and try to get to some dark wizard. She could take the proof she had and hope it would be enough for anyone she came across. If Snape was at the Order meeting tonight, then she could take him up to the room and show him the parchment. If it wasn't enough then she'd bolt and pray.

With all her stuff gathered, she could only walk down the stairs and into the sitting room and channel her acting abilities to hold out the rest of the day. It was going to be easy until Ron opened his mouth. "Hermione, can we talk? There are some things we need to talk about and I do not want to waste any more time in talking about it" Ron asked.

Hoping it wouldn't be anything too serious, "Sure Ron, what is it you want to talk to me about?" only to notice Sirius being anything but and looking at the conversation with a knowing grin. "Although maybe we should consider this conversation elsewhere." Nodding her head to the mangy mutt who's grin only grew wider after the statement.

"Sorry Hermione I'm afraid I am going to take him for a while" came the voice of Molly Weasley behind her scaring Hermione out of her wits. She jumped up a foot in the air Sirius at this point was rolling around the floor dying of laughter. Being the dignified lady, she was Hermione glared at him, only to turn around and see Molly forcefully dragging her son out of the room. Even she couldn't resist a chuckle at that.

She was going to miss these times where everyone was just living their lives. No war, no hate, just family. But if what Sirius' letter said was true, this whole thing was a lie and another family was suffering because of it. Ironic isn't it? The dark lord who hated mudbloods had a daughter that was raised one her entire life. If only she could see the look on Draco's face if he ever found out, no doubt his "father would hear about it". And with that she broke down laughing.

Sirius raised a confused eyebrow at the scene of Hermione slowly breaking out to a smile and giggles. It was a little crazy but it was heartwarming. This war would be particularly hard on both her and Harry though for differing reasons, and it is nice to see her with joy in her life. But he didn't want her to have too much fun, "Alright Hermione, time to get you to work. You've had enough freeloading, and if you're not working, then that demon of a Weasley matron will put me to work. Time for you to share the load lassie." And with that, they both went to clean up the room with the piano and hours seemed to pass by without a bat of an eyelash.

It was evening and dinner at Grimmauld place was going exactly as normal. There was a bounty provided for the multi person household courtesy of Molly and Arthur cooking most of the afternoon. Hermione though having no appetite, forced herself to eat. A potential last meal, she looked around the table one last time. Tonks, Kingsley, Sirius and Remus were all deep in conversation about something involving the order, hopefully there would be a meeting tonight. Ginny, Fred and George were talking michieviously about using some invention to overhear the order tonight. Ron was talking to Arthur Weasley about school. Nothing crazy was going on and Hermione didn't like it.

At least it wasn't until the fireplace flared green and the Hogwarts troupe consisting of professors and various other order members came through. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Mad-Eye Moody and some other people came in at first. The last two however had her using what untrained occlumency she had to keep an inconspicuous reaction. Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore exited the floo system.

She was so used to analytical things. She had her one source of hope and the one who could ruin everything walking towards her. She couldn't afford to stare and make things obvious, so she looked away sharply.

Most of the newcomers made their way around the main table and took their seats. Snape took to his usual spot in the far back corner of the room, and Dumbledore sat at the far side of the table at the end seat. All the professors greeted everybody including Dumbledore which made Hermione very relieved for the time being. Maybe she could live through the night after all.

Mad-Eye unfortunately saw the change in Hermione through his magical eye, but was confused as to what was going on. Clearly nobody else was commenting on it, and the girl looked afraid of Dumbledore. Suspicious but after all that has happened, he applauded her Constant Vigilance.

It delved into friendly conversation with Hermione eating her fill and then some in case it was her last meal before going on the run for a long while. Unfortunately, she was feeling the dread fill her heart as the meal cleared. Whatever icy spectre that happened last time she felt such stress was slowly coming up within her once more. She did the most logical thing she could as she panicked, and ran into the library.

"Hermione can we t-" Ron tried to say as she wooshed past him. "Dammit, Hermione wait come back what's wrong"

Hermione was going to have none of it as she ran into that library and drew near instantly a privacy ward. Nobody was going to have seen the sphere of ice that convalesced around her as everything froze.

Ron in the meanwhile was trying to find the library. He knew where it should be but it wasn't there. He knew about Hermione casting runes lest "the trace" catch her, a little illogical considering that nobody batted an eye when she released him from the curtain a few weeks ago. What kind of friend was he? Couldn't help the friend probably being tortured right now and couldn't help the friend that was behind an invisible barrier. He promised he would be there for the friend in need right now, and that is exactly what he did. He laid against where he assumed the door to be and felt it unusually cold. He was going to be there when Hermione came out.

Hermione stopped contorting as a mannequin and lifted herself up. She didn't have time to fear and let that spectre take control again. She needed to act and now, who knew how long it had been since she entered the room. She was going to open up the door, until she noticed the state of the library. All but the bookshelves had sharp menacing icicles protruding from them.

No time to waste, her magical reserves surprisingly weren't exhausted after such a spectacle and she drew the Egyptian rune for heat and the Norse rune for dry on the floor of the room. Fairly simple stuff within the sixth-year curriculum and Hermione accomplished this with practiced ease.

Opening the door slowly, she nearly tripped over the slumped over body of Ron with drool coming out his mouth. "Even on my last day, you couldn't help but try to help. You truly do have your heart in the right place," she whispered just softly enough for him to twitch at the sound of her voice. She then decided to setup her sneaking, thanks to the twins and some extra money she had a small hand of their prank inventions. If she were to be caught, they would let her have some time. For right now she applied their silent souls to her shoes and crept down the hall towards the dining hall, where the Order meetings were held.

"We need to get to Harry! He should be here with me not with some deranged and abusive muggles." Sirius said.

"Black we have heard enough of your whining about Potter to fill a nursery. He's treated like royalty there and you know it Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to his precious golden boy." Countered the usual drawl of Professor Snape.

That's all Hermione needed to spring into action. Sounded like the main points of the meeting were coming to a close. No more time to test coincidence, this was fate. She ran up the stairs making sure to be careful with her footsteps and went into the firelit room with the charts and the notes from Sirius. Her thinking was that Snape would want all of the proof she could get. In her haste she left the door open and frantically took the note from its place where she left it on the floor. She was about to grab the potion diagram off of the walls, until she heard voices exiting the kitchen and entering the main hallway downstairs.

No time to spare, she left the diagram where it was, and proceeded to run out the door with the note, making sure to softly but quickly shut the door behind her as she went. "I think I shall retire for the night" spoke an unknown Order member followed by the sound of the fireplace flaring. She raced into her room and grabbed her bag, and had difficulty pulling it. Yes, it was expandable but the bag itself was entirely too bulky for her to actually manage it with any speed with Snape. She left her door open just a crack and kept hearing the sound of the floo activating. Any one of those sounds could be her best chance disappearing in literal flames.

She quickly pulled out a pouch with her vault key and grabbed her wand, rune kit and opened the door just a bit more. She peered around the corner and listened to see if anybody was coming up the stairs. Hearing nothing, she cautiously opened the door and began the slow walk down the hallway.

After the constant peering over her shoulder for about a week, she knew about all of the squeaky floorboards down this hallway along with the best places to hide. She kept to the shadows expertly and slowly crept down the hall. The stairs were the most difficult but she had to run down after checking to see if the coast was clear. Dodging past a sleeping Ron she re-entered the library and listened to the voices.

"Look Snivelous! Don't you fucking DARE talk about my godson like that again. I believe you mean well but if you think about laying a hand on Harry's head ever, you wont see the light of day ever again. He's the only family I have left and I will be damned if you are the reason something serious happens!"

"Enough Black. I just want to retire for the night. Don't want to hear you keep squabbling like a buffoon any longer. You have made your point perfectly clear but let it be said, that child will not be able to win this war in his current state. He is just like his father, and if something doesn't change, he will fall like him as well."

"I know I know! I am not the one refusing to train him, that's all Dumbledore's work. As a guiding light, he seems to have a plan and at least the additional work being done seems to be doing wonders on the others." Spoke a deflated Sirius. That was a slap in the face for Hermione. First of all, they are talking somewhat civilly and second, Sirius truly looked as if he was held in Azkaban for twelve years the bags under his eyes truly visible and looking anything but the pureblood lord he looked like earlier. "I'll retire for the night Snape; I suggest you do the same."

As Sirius walked up the stairs, Severus Snape was staring at where the Lord Black left with one-part anger two parts resignation. This war was taking its toll on everyone and with Voldemort making people 'disappear' things were getting testy in anticipation for the war to break out fully. He was just about to enter the floo when a small bushy haired blur ran silently across the room to block his access to the floo.  
Of course! Another reason why Snape couldn't escape this hellhole, go visit Malfoy Manor and retire for the night. Why lady Fate why, have you made his life hell.

"And what in Merlin's balls are you doing Miss Granger?" he drawled with a sneer marring his face. "If you were still in Hogwarts right now, you would be scrubbing cauldrons for three moths for doing less."

Shaking, Hermione held firm in her stance. Somehow after having stopped him, it made everything much easier. "Professor, you've got to listen to me this is a matter of life and death. Before they brew me potions again, please please PLEASE listen to me!" she said, her resolve crumbling by the second.

"Perhaps you're more of a dunderhead than even I realized Miss Granger. Who brewed you potions, the Order?! They treat you like royalty here against my judgement." Snape had had enough at this point and pushed the distraught girl off to the side. He was going to enjoy some fine wine and catch up with his surrogate family at the manor. Until what he heard next stopped him dead in his tracks.

Hermione, nursing her arm due to the impact of Snape pushing her to the ground, had to say something before her one chance of escape fled with her. It was hopeless, he wouldn't believe her anyways, this entire idea was stupid. She supposed that she might as well tell him the truth about it. "Did you know that Voldermort had a daughter once?" she asked whispering, just as Snape had walked into the fireplace.

Time slowed to a crawl for her. She fully expected to see a green light signifying that her escape left her to die and fend for herself. Only to be slammed against the wall held by the collar of her mangled robes, courtesy of the library incident not thirty minutes prior. She saw a green light, but one emanating from the point of a certain potion master's wand.

"How did you find that out? Who put you up to this? If you don't answer right now, you will truly find out why I was considered one of the Dark Lord's most powerful servants." He hissed, pushing his wand up against her throat. "How dare you bring up everybody's pain from that. You are a stupid girl who is in way over her head. NOW TALK!"

Knowing that he needed to keep things down, she shushed him briefly. "Keep things down. If you don't I don't know if either of us will survive the night" then took a deep breath as the pressure on her neck was released slightly, "check my pouch, you'll find how I know of the child. I need to leave immediately and I need to contact someone on the other side. I know my life will be at risk but it's also at risk here."

Snape quickly opened the pouch and ignored the key and pulled out the parchment. "This is your proof?" he said without looking,

" **Read it**." Was all that was needed to be said.

So, read it he did. His eyes ever widening as he did. So Black did play a part in that horrific night. Oh how the light has fallen, resorting to kidnappings and ruining of families to win a war they were losing. Snape knew this war was a waste. The dark had no qualms knowing who they were but what they were wasn't good, especially what they turned into after that night. The light on the other hand touted themselves as better but in the end, though they hadn't tortured in memory, they were just as bad if not worse in many other ways. He shook his train of thought away and then looked at that very last line.

Hermione felt herself stiffen in anticipation for his reaction. Would he be angry, would he turn her into the light for even more potions, would he turn her in to Voldemort to be killed? She didn't pretend to know the man, he was always so angry at everything all the time. Heck maybe he would finish the job himself just like he threatened her earlier. She could only hope that her family and Harry would understand her choice. She sent a little prayer to the heavens and then felt the last thing she expected. She felt arms wrap themselves around her and embrace her.

"Do you know for certain if this is true or not?" Was a question said in hope for times to change.

"No," she sniffed, feeling tears start to break as the fear built up over the last few days released itself, "but I'm not willing to stick around and see if the Order knows for certain." She started feeling damp spots on her robe and it broke her heart to see it. This was a man torn by warfare. Whatever happened involving Cecilla Jean Riddle whether it be the kidnapping or the aftermath, clearly broke this man.

"We will go to the Malfoys and find out if this is true or not. There are things that can be done to find out. They will not harm you especially given my word regardless of who your parentage turns out to be." Tears rolling down his cheeks. He had to clamp down using years of spying knowledge to stop them and got to think rationally. Checked the parchment, no spells or anything which was check one. Did legilimency on Hermione, was shocked to see some form of shields there, but found she thought this was true. Oh, how the war could change with this revelation, the Dark may reform to its former glory. Regardless of the state of the war, he would protect Cecilla with his everything even from her own father if he had to.

Both were mutually in comfort, shocking given their previous engagements at Hogwarts. The moment was taken away from them as they hear a door creak upstairs followed by the sound of footsteps down the hallway.

"Hey is anybody still up?" came the whispering voice of Remus Lupin creaking down the hall.

Without wasting any second, Severus took Hermione by the shirt and pushed her into the floo, he grabbed the floo powder and whispered, "Snape Manor." And as the green flames warped around the two of them, he could only watch and see Remus' head appear at the top of the stairs.

The emerged from the floo in a darkly furnished sitting room. Though Hermione didn't have any time to take in the dark mahogany furnishings nor the lightly colored walls. "Come, we will go to the Malfoys, and see what they can accomplish in regards to finding your parentage." Snape said immediately. "We don't have much time to spare at all, I know Remus didn't have enough time to see us go but we don't want anyone to be suspicious before we can act on this information."

Hermione stalled with uncertainty, thinking for the first time that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Snape knowing just what would happen once, they Order found out about her disappearance, had no time for her to contemplate the fate she chose, pulled her once more in the floo and yelled, "Malfoy Manor," which changed the course of history forever.

 **A.N: Well, it has been far too long since I last updated this story, there are no excuses for it but mainly it was because I got very demotivated after having lost my USB key with an already fully typed chapter 4. Hopefully those who have stuck around so far will look forward to me consistently uploading again and I thank everyone for the continued support.**


	7. Chapter 6: The enemy moves

Chapter 6:

 **An: To all those who have given nice reviews, I thank you all for them. It is hard to make music, learn programming and write all at the same time while going to school full time so I appreciate everybody's patience. I'll be trying to write more frequently while setting up social media stuff for all of my music and programming. Anyways enough of my young-adult melodrama onwards with the sandwich. Cause I am bloody hungry…oh yeah and here is a chapter I guess.**

"Shh, we have arrived," came the monotone voice of Severus Snape out of the Malfoy Manor fireplace. "If you make a sound, I cannot guarantee your safety," he said while dragging her by the sleeve of her shirt.

The green flames of the floo only illuminated the room for a second and that alone gave Hermione second thoughts. She could barely grasp her unfamiliar environment with the glimpse the floo light gave her. It was a small room, with some sort of furniture sprawled around the floor but it wasn't the focus of her attention. What caught her attention was the green light of the fire being reflected off of the weapons being held by multiple suits of armor on the wings of the room. Around six in total, they were much unlike the suits in Hogwarts which were more traditional. These were cloth suits but they carried mostly swords, but one to the far-right side of the room had two daggers instead. She tugged her arm back in fear. Her mistake became apparent as her rescuer's eyes went cold.

"If you leave now, I will guarantee that you drink some potions from my vast collection. With no guarantees of your identity, accidents can still happen." If the words he spoke didn't stop her, then the look in his eyes certainly did. It wasn't the face of anger or fear. It was the face of resolve from the likes of which, she had only seen from Harry Potter himself before confronting evil.

After seeing the message sink in her eyes, he softened his own expression. "With you now in Death Eater territory, and me bringing you here, you have placed targets on both of our backs. If your identity turns out to be false, you will be lucky to escape with your mind obliviated of every memory you've ever had and I'll be lucky to be granted a quick death. There is too much at stake for either of us to back out."  
With that he wordlessly cast **Lumos** and pulled her deeper into the room.

"If is it so bad then why don't you-" she began in her lecture mode while walking towards the opposite end of the room.

"You say another word at that volume, you're silenced. Clear?" Snape cut in. Opening a door that wasn't visible when the flames illuminated the room. He darted his head out into the hallway with his wand tip illuminating the corridor.

"-why don't you just leave me here? It would be safer wouldn't it?" she whispered following behind him as he stepped into the hallway. There was not much she could do with only her wand equipped to her person and a vast array of five years of magical spells of which she has only practiced four. All in all, she was completely useless in this scenario.

Snape slowly, crept into the hallway, dragging Hermione with him. His only form of guidance was his familiarity in this house and the dim Lumos spell he used. The hall was long and narrow, with portrait paintings fast asleep lining the halls. There were a few suits of armor here as well, but they were not obstructing their forward path in any way. These too carried various weapons of the medieval era, no doubt a testament to the history of the Malfoy family line.

They eventually reached a conjunction of halls, one of which led to a large window. Snape knew this was roughly where he would find his destination. It was also the perfect spot to explain minimally to the twerp. "As Potter has no doubt told you, I started as a death eater." He said facing the window. He paused taking a deep breath "I joined the dark lord for my own reasons and proved to be one of his greatest followers. My dueling skills went unquestioned and my potion skills made me irreplaceable."

He slowly turned to face her with a grave expression on his face, "it led me to be privy to the birth and subsequent godfather-ship of a young girl." Illuminated by the moon outside, he pressed his fist against the window leaning his head against it. "Then an event happened that led us to believe she had perished. To this day we do not know what happened but whatever the incident was, the dark changed. They became the feared people we know today, they were never saints but they were never heartless."

He took his head off the window, and walked over to where she was left standing. Still illuminated by the blue of the moonlight, he grabbed her arm and resumed walking to their destination. "If there is a chance to bring the dark back, if there is a chance to bring my family not related by blood back, if there is a chance that I can get my goddaughter back, I will willingly die for it." The fact that he used leginemency and she at least believed the situation herself was a fact he was going to keep to himself for now.

"So you think that the entirety of the war would change if-"

"What are people doing up at this ruddy hour!" came a loud and angry voice from a very much not Lucius Malfoy down the hall they just came from.

Hermione nearly dropped to the floor in fear and shock after being cut off. Fortunately for her, Snape's shock was only expressed briefly in his eyes, only to speed to her and drag her down the second hall connected to that window. He quickly cast a spell to silence their footsteps down the hall so he could gauge the speed their pursuer was approaching. He knew that voice from his inner circle meetings, and being caught by him would turn deadly very quickly. Running down the hall, wand in hand, all he needed was a door. He knew he could conceal them quickly there but there was absolutely no chance of concealment if they kept running. If anything they would only succeed in waking more inner circle members to lead the charge.

Hermione, not for the first time that night, was at a loss as to what to do. She again had no spells that could really fight a trained killer, and had no time to draw any runes that would allow her any reprieve. It was a scary thought, to trust a man who not fifteen minutes ago, threatened to kill her via his 'personal stores' but it was the only option she had in enemy territory.

They heard the footsteps come around the corner to the window, just as the light from Snape's wand illuminated a door.

"You there, STOP RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" came the scream of rage from none other than Walden Macnair, a speculated death eater and was intended to be the hippogriff Buckbeak's executioner. He was a trained executioner with an axe as well as a wand, certified by the ministry. Hermione didn't even want to fathom what sort of nasty spells his line of work allowed him to carry on hand.

Thankfully for her and Snape, they didn't have to fathom anything as they just reached the door, before Macnair could finish drawing his wand against them. Flinging the door open, they both jumped into the room without checking what was inside of it. Snape immediately began casting spells on the two of them for the battle ahead as Hermione dropped to the ground while facing the door and tried to draw some basic runes to buy them some time. With hearts beating the speed of the drawing and casting, they barely paused to wipe the sweat from their brows.

After having finished their preparations, Hermione was still standing though barely restraining sobs of fear and relief that she was still living and preparing for the fight of her life. Snape on the other hand was faring better, and was relieved that they at least stood a chance to hold out for some time.

Wiping their sweat from their brows, they were about to turn away from the door until both of them felt a jab of something against their necks.

Snape turned his head slightly only to see a smirking face with bleach blonde hair and malevolent grey eyes staring deep into his own. "Severus, your visit is much appreciated. It has been much too long since you last graced my doorstep." He said with mock amusement only to have his face contort into a look of such loathing that a basilisk would have frozen in place. "You have five seconds to explain before I kill you and the mudblood."

There was silence in the room for a time. Neither of the two at wand-point completely sure how to react. Snape remained still as a statue, after knowing his ex-friend as long as he had, he knew that Lucius Malfoy was dead serious. He looked at his younger charge and took a lot of control to stop him from trying to break free. She was nearly hyperventilating into tears but she would get no sympathy from the Malfoy matron Narcissa who had her arm around her neck with her wand pointed up at her chin.

"Clock is ticking Snape. Do we kill you and the mudblood or not?" Malfoy said, digging the wand deeper into the back of Snape's neck. He gestured with his free hand towards his wife and she took it as a signal, pushed Hermione to the floor and grabbed something that Snape couldn't see.

"The Dark Lord may very well kill you if you do that?" he spoke for the first time since entering the room.

Narcissa laughed, at Snape's rebuttal. "That is what your desperate mind can conjure up? One of the greatest in the Dark Lord's inner circle thinks that the Dark Lord would kill us for the murder of a traitor and a mudblood? I always knew that Dumbledore made you that delusional?"

"Do not toy with me Snape, I know why you left. So, answer me this, why would the Dark Lord care about the fate of a mudblood." Lucius said snarling. He had now pushed Snape into the warded door and was choking him with his wandpoint He thought that his long-time friend during and outside Voldemort's campaign was lying to him. They were both to be killed upon principle, nothing was worth risking the home of his family and his marked Death Eater brethren.

"Not—a—mudblood. " Snape desperately gasped out. He struggled against the point and turned his head to the side just to turn his face away from the door. Took one deep breath before the wand was once again forced against him, and said "Cecilla".

Cecilla

A name not spoken in that house for the past 14 years. Not 14 years yet not a single person privy to the kidnapping forgot. It was a name so powerful that it got Lucius to almost drop his wand in shock. The room was silent except for the cackling of the fireplace that had kept the room illuminated all of this time.

Lucius had the killing curse on his tongue until he heard a shrill screech and then felt temperatures plummet.

Hermione was sick of it. She had come here for one thing only, a chance. She had no books, no Harry or Ron to bail her out of this situation and soon no life once Narcissa cast her spell. She had come to terms with the fact that she could die but for not the first time this summer, Hermione had her instincts brought to question. To be frank, they never let her get anywhere. She was always saved by someone else and it didn't bring any joy to think that she would very well be dead if she did anything on her own.

She didn't feel when Narcissa pushed her to the ground because she had already retreated too deep for anything to break through her conscience. It felt like she went into these states almost every other day of the week at this point. She almost greeted the ice casually this time round…. That's it! The ice.

Pulling at all of the horrible things that were ever done to her, she tried to coax the ice out. With nobody to explain how this worked to her, she could only go on instinct which for the first time in her memory worked. She pulled up thoughts about her having her magic blocked, being given potions to love Ron, overhearing the conversation that led her to this mess, and general hatred at being called Lord Voldemort's daughter. It was far too easy to do.

She had always been known to react too late to things because she was waiting for her brain to give her clues. She vaguely heard Snape say her birth name when the world for her turned white.

The first thought that went through Snape's head as he heard the scream from Hermione was that she had just killed them both. That was before ice exploded in all directions. It wasn't anywhere near what any of the inner circle could manage, but it was unfathomable to do such an area of affect spell without doing at least five years of strict training on elemental discipline. It was enough to knock both of the Malfoys off their feet and snuff out the fireplace. Lucky for him, Lucius took a brunt of the freezing so he was relatively unscathed from the entire thing.

He only had a few seconds, so he rushed over to Hermione with his wand drawn and cast a heating charm on both of them. She thankfully, was unconscious and he didn't expect an outburst anytime soon.  
The ramifications of what just happened caught up with him as he cast a levitation spell on her comatose body.

Hermione or Cecilla, whatever, was elementally attuned already and she was already powerful.

She could too easily be used as a weapon. She had the knowledge, she had the power, and she had the imagination. It was the unspoken trinity of magic potential and ability though nobody knew quite why.

Unfortunately, he got just lost in thought enough that the Malfoys got up and were blocking the door. Their wands were not drawn this time round. Snape pushed the levitated Hermione against the opposite wall, and pointed his wand at the two offenders who had been about to murder him and his charge.

"Snape, I believe you are a liar and a coward. However no mere muggleborn fifth year could have done what just happened." Lucius stated, "What do you think dear?"

"We will keep you trapped within the wards, and without wands until we can get an inheritance test done." Narcissa replied in a curt tone "You will be granted no means of escape and your rooms will be warded beyond comprehension. If you make one move out of line, we will not hesitate to strike you down or let the Dark Lord himself take out a traitorous inner circle member while the rest of the inner circle have fun with the mudblood."

"When do you suppose we can get that inheritance test done?" Snape asked still angry about what had happened not seconds previously. "She seems to genuinely believe it from my legilimency and I need to be on my way before you change your minds and stab me in the back"

"We will get it done tomorrow, that way we can decide your fates without too much of a time delay. However, I will need your wands before we can consider it." Lucius extended his arm outwards.

Snape was all too reluctant to give it to him, but when weighing his options he could either fight his way out of the mansion or give it a chance. He would be dead anyways, and if the escalation of the war changed, then he was willing to risk it. He was really tempted to hit both of them while their wands weren't drawn but it feasibly was not possible to escape Malfoy Manor with his charge still intact.

He, very reluctantly gave Lucius his wand and retrieved Hermione's from her still levitated and unconscious person. As he handed their wands off, Narcissa revived Hermione.

"Come, I will take you to your rooms where you will be able to rest" said Narcissa.

Hermione looked like she wanted to object and no doubt ask a million and one questions about what was going on, but Snape gave her one stiff look and gestured her into the hallway.

Ron only remembered falling asleep outside the door to where Hermione should have been located. He woke up to laughter very close to him. He blearily blinked his eyes a few times, and saw the chuckling faces of Ginny, Fred and George staring from an uncomfortably close distance.

"Oh, do please go back to sleep ickle Ronniekens" Fred said.

"We were just about to turn your hair green" George said after holding up and experimental can for their prank shop business.

"Just mind the drool this time" said Ginny with a giggle. "Anyways, breakfast is being served in the dining room Mother told me to wake you up so that you could be present."

"Okay thanks Ginny" Ron said as he rushed up the stairs to get changed out of the clothes he wore last night.

Last night was a bust to say the least, he fell asleep before he could tell Hermione about the training he was receiving and wanted to talk to her about why she was so distant. Maybe start a relationship with her if things were going well. At least when Hermione left breakfast today, he would have his chance to go through with the discussion. It was now just postponed a couple of hours.

He made sure to care a bit more about his appearance and washed his face and combed his hair. It was an improvement to be sure, but not much of one in terms of his general cleanliness. He wanted to make a good impression as he came down to the dining room.

He walked down the stairs and into the dining room with a smiling and confident expression on his face. It flipped as soon as he entered.

"Good morning Ron-"

"Where is Hermione?" Ron franticly interrupted the voice of Molly Weasley in order to get answers to his quandary. He looked around the table and didn't see a trace of her existence at all.

"Why I wont be disrespected in my own house young ma-"

"Molly this isn't your house, this is mine. If I have to keep reminding you of that fact you may not be able to consider yourselves guests too much longer. " Sirius interrupted, "We think she is still warded up in whichever room she claimed Ron, there is not indication of much else. If she doesn't come out by lunch though, we may have to search the house for her."

"But she was in the room I was sleeping by." Ron desperately said, "The room and the door were both unsealed by the time I woke up which means she had to have gone before I woke up."

"Why are you so interested all of a sudden Ron?" Ginny asked with a devilish smirk on her face.

"Because-er…well….. I…."

"Does Ron fancy the bookworm?" George asked.

"Poor girl. I do pity her for having to deal with him." The twin replied.

Ron blushed to the roots of his hair as he looked around the table and saw that nearly everyone had identical grins on their faces. Sirius was full on laughing at the overall reactions from everyone.

"Okay everyone that's enough, we have a full day of cleaning ahead of us and searching if Hermione doesn't wake up and show her face by lunch time. Let's get back to work" Sirius said.

And while everybody cleared their dishes except for Ron who had barely started eating, Ron and Remus both had very big feelings of foreboding in their bodies that they just couldn't shake.

She gasped as she woke up dripping in sweat. There was light filtering through the windows and she rushed to the door. Turning the handle as fast as she could, it didn't prove fruitful. Okay so it was locked. She sat back a bit and thought about it. She figured they would keep her and Snape in the same area of the house, so all she had to do was get out and then find Snape. If only he hadn't told her to hand over her wand last night.

Oh well.

She briefly glanced around the room looking for an item to use as leverage and didn't find something that was useable. So, she ran to the opposite wall and sprinted into the door with her shoulder. It moved about as far as a stationary rock.

"If you think about doing that again, I will personally come in there and nobody will care." came the voice outside of the door.

It was a lost cause. If someone was guarding the door, and she didn't have a wand, then there wasn't much of a chance for her to escape. She wanted to scream but she couldn't risk the man behind the door coming inside.

So she sat against the door and Hermione took in her surroundings. First thing she noticed was the abundance of green and black around the room. The second thing she noticed was the bed…sweet MERLIN THE BED. She sat up taking in the structure she had apparently slept on. A massive four poster bed decorated in green, silver and of course the black. She shifted her weight up and down to realize just how soft it actually was.

Well for a prisoner, at least they knew how to treat them right. She expected a cell, not a palace. Which led to the third thing that caught her eye, a bookshelf. She extracted herself from the door, walked over and saw what sort of books they decided to provide her and was shocked to find it was mostly history books on wizarding culture. She expected the unspeakable evils from the Black Manor library not books like "The Fall of the Ancients", "The Rise and Untold Truths of Merlin", "Purity and Insanity".

The Rise and Untold Truths of Merlin looked interesting enough, so she picked it up. She hadn't even opened the cover yet before she had heard Lucius' voice on the other side of the door.

"Is she up yet?"

"Yeah, and tried to break the door down. The filthy mudblood. No respect for her betters' belongings,"

"That's enough! You're dismissed."

"Fine, don't even know why she is even still alive, tainting our household after everything." Came the ever-distant voice of the guard as he walked away.

Lucius sighed and Hermione could imagine him rubbing his forehead. "That's what we are going to find out today."

She put the book back and sat down on the bed.

"If you are decent, come out immediately. The house elves will bring you some food. They will also provide you with Polyjuice potion. Prepare yourself, we are going immediately to Gringotts."

 **Thats a sandwich, with...er sandwich ingredients. I'm struggling with length of the chapters, but the story is starting to pick up to where I really enjoy the writing which makes things easier. If you guys could leave any and all feedback as I continue writing this story that'd be great. Take Care Guys! ;)**

 **-The Last Mastermind**


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